Pride and Prejudice in Manhattan
by Vyktorya07
Summary: A modern day P&P. This project might get the sack... might get totally revamped. Not sure yet. Sorry for the long wait!
1. Chapter One

AN: And we're back. I've completely re-edited this story and changed a few things (nothing major, no worries.)

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

Lizzie wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve. The basement was not air-conditioned. She'd have to speak to Luke about that. There weren't many paintings left there now that Lizzie had spent the past two weeks cleaning out the sweltering room and storing the artwork properly, but if it wasn't air conditioned, then the space couldn't be used for anything. And Lizzie knew as well as anyone that if you had space in the city then you used it.

She heaved the last painting onto the table and wrapped it foam, then slid it into a cardboard box with handles.

"Carter?" she yelled. "The last painting's done, help me carry it up!" After a moment, Lizzie climbed the narrow stairs looking for her best friend. "Carter! Where are you?"

"Ah, Lizzie!" Luke called from across the nearly empty gallery. "Carter went down the street for some food. He should be back in a moment. I'm sorry I didn't provide food for you. But thanks for helping me clear out the gallery and store the artwork properly. We'll have plenty of room down there for the new stuff I've got coming in for the show. I just hope we can get everything set up in time."

"Lizzie sat down on the floor with a plastic cup she'd filled with water and drained it all. "Don't worry about it, Luke," she said wiping her mouth. "We've got another month to get it ready and I would be more than willing to help you with anything you need. You know I love this kind of thing and I'm learning so much anyway. When does the new art come in?"

"Next week. Wednesday, I think."

"Oh, excellent. I can come by after work, if you like."

Luke nodded and then looked absently around his gallery. Suddenly, he frowned and looked at Lizzie. "Your mother called earlier, looking for you." Lizzie's smile faded off her face. "Don't worry, I told her I thought you were at work. She spoke for quite a while about you...she asked me whether or not I thought you might apply for college this fall."

Lizzie rolled her eyes and got to her feet. She could feel her temper rising. How many more times would she have to go through this? It had been three years since she had graduated from high school and moved to the city. And she'd been happier in those three years than she ever had been in high school. Her mother was insufferable. And why was she trying to bring her uncle into this?

"Luke you know how I feel. I don't want to go to college. I'm not Jane. I'm not Lydia." Lizzie walked back to the water cooler and filled her cup.

"Well, do think about it Lizzie. I know you're taking classes on your own, and that's wonderful. But the opportunities that college affords, the resources that could be at your finger tips, the connections you could make...Don't you think you should at least consider it? For the sake of your art? You are so talented and yet you restrict yourself so much by not even applying. Just apply. You don't have to leave the city or stop taking the classes you're taking now. You would only be opening another door."

Lizzie was fuming. This was the last place she had expected to hear this. Luke had caught her quite off guard and she resented him for it. At least when she was around her mother she could see it coming. She stormed away from Luke and he continued to follow her around the barren gallery. "Luke, why don't you and mom and dad just accept my decision! I know what I do and do not want for myself. I'm happy this way! I don't want to go to college!"

Luke sighed. "If you would just listen for a second, you would--"

"I don't want to listen to this! I've heard it a million times before!" Lizzie couldn't believe her uncle was pushing this. "Why are you concerned all of a sudden? You used to on my side! I've done nothing but help you at the gallery! I have a steady job, which leaves time for me to paint without having to worry about silly, stupid grades or GPAs or tuition or dorm living. Just leave it!"

"Lizzie, stop shouting. I'm not the enemy. I'm trying to help you!" Luke was beginning to plead. He pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his sports coat. "Look, I've just looked up some of the best art schools in the city. Just look at them. Please." He held out the paper to her.

Lizzie looked at the paper with disgust. She grabbed it from her uncle's hand, crumpled it up and threw it into a corner. She ran to the front door and straight into Carter and his sandwich. She started to fall and Carter made to steady her but the force of Lizzie running into him caused him to lose his grip on the sandwich and on Lizzie. They both fell to the ground amid shreds of lettuce and tomato.

"Dammit!" swore Carter. "Lizzie, come on now. You didn't have to run after me, that sandwich was for you." He helped her to her feet and she brushed the bits of food off her pants.

"I wasn't running after you, Carter," she snapped. "I was running away from him." She gestured sharply toward Luke.

Carter laughed. "Ah, Luke. You weren't trying to get her to try watercolors again, were you? You know she doesn't touch the stuff."

Luke shrugged and walked away from them. "Clean up the mess," he said softly as he disappeared behind his office door.

"What's just happened?" Carter asked Lizzie, who was still picking bits of lettuce out of her hair.

Lizzie sighed loudly. She was beginning to feel ashamed of what she'd done. "I lost my stupid temper with him."

"I'll say. Over what? You and Luke never fight."

"He wants me to go to college," Lizzie glanced up at Carter. He was a whole head and shoulders taller than she was and his familiar smile reappeared as he caught on.

"Ha! That'll teach him not to try and educate Elizabeth Bennett! She will remain ignorant for the rest of her life or die trying!" Carter proclaimed. Lizzie promptly hit him on the shoulder and bent over to pick up the rest of the sandwich.

"Shut up, Carter. I know I shouldn't have lost it, but I have heard the same speech so many times. You know how it feels! I'm tired of people thinking I'm lazy and stupid just because I don't go to college. That's ignorance for you."

"Luke does not think you are lazy or stupid. And how many times have I heard this speech? It's been three years now, Liz. You need to learn to let it go. You can't fly off the handle every time someone gives you grief about not going to college. It's going to keep happening, so just let it go. Just remember that this is your life and you're happy with it."

Lizzie dumped the trash into the garbage can and turned, sighing. "I know. I know! I just...I didn't expect it to come from Luke. He's always been so supportive of me. I mean...what does it mean when he starts telling me to go back to school? What does it mean when he starts listening to my mom?"

"Relax, Lizzie, you're starting to go into depressed, conflicted artist mode," Carter joked.

"Don't you know? That's when I do my best work!" Lizzie smiled broadly.

"Ha! There's the Lizzie I left half an hour ago! Let's finish up downstairs, shall we?" They both went to the basement and carried the painting up the stairs and loaded it into Carter's pick-up truck in the alley next to the gallery.

"Ok, ready to go?" Carter asked. "I can drop you off if you like."

"Wait, I think I should apologize to Luke before we go," Lizzie went back into the gallery only to find the Luke had already left. She suddenly felt terrible for yelling at him. He was only trying to help, after all. And he had supported her faithfully for the last three years. The least she could do was hear him out. She looked around for the piece of paper she had thrown on the floor, but she couldn't find it. Reluctantly, she grabbed her bag and locked up the gallery. Carter drove her to her flat in silence.

* * *

When she got back to her flat, it was past eight o'clock and she still hadn't eaten anything. She searched the kitchen for some leftovers and, finding none, settled on making herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The flat was awfully quiet. Usually Lydia and Carly were watching some primetime television show at this hour but it appeared as though there was no one home.

"Hello?" Lizzie called, her mouth full of sandwich.

"In here!" Lizzie heard her elder sister Jane calling from her bedroom. Lizzie opened the door and leaned against the frame eating her sandwich. "Hey, what's up? Where is everyone?"

Jane raised her eyes from a very large and word-filled page of an enormously thick textbook on her desk. "I'm studying for a test. The finer points of organic chemistry."

"What a delight," Lizzie smiled at her sister. Jane was getting her masters degree in physical therapy at Columbia and was always studying some subject whose name sent shivers down Lizzie's spine whenever anyone mentioned it. "You do know that it's Friday."

"Yes, Lizzie," said Jane, smiling back. "Lydia is out. Apparently one of her friends is auditioning for some sort of reality show and the whole pack of them decided to go and show their support." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "And I don't know where Carly is. Although, I must say, she has been worrying me lately."

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. "Lately? How about for the past six months?"

Jane frowned. "Well, obviously. She hasn't been the same since the wedding was called off, but lately she's been mentioning how she can't find a boyfriend and Lydia says she's been going to singles bars and those restaurants where they fix you up with other single people for like, ten minutes or so... It's worrying me. You're her best friend. Would you talk to her?"

"I'm not sure there's anything I could say," Lizzie muttered as she sat down on Jane's bed. "I think she sensed that I was less than pleased at the idea of her getting married in the first place. We haven't really been as close since she got engaged. She's been hanging out more with Lydia than me. And honestly, who wants to get married at twenty? It's ridiculous. I'm glad the wedding was called off." Jane looked at Lizzie in surprise. "Well, obviously I'm not happy that she's depressed!" Lizzie clarified. "I'm just glad she's not attaching herself to that boring carpet boy. He was so boring!"

"Lizzie, not everyone is the same. She loved him," Jane said, returning to her book.

"Oh, please. She loved the idea of getting married. I didn't know she was like that until recently. She certainly has changed over the past year."

"Mmmm," Jane murmured. "Anyways, Lizzie, will you talk to her? I know Uncle Luke is worried about her. Do it for him at least."

Lizzie silently agreed. She did need to make up for her behavior to Luke today. She supposed putting his mind to rest about his daughter would be more than adequate. "Ok, sure," Lizzie said as she began to leave her sister's room.

"Wait, Liz," Jane said. "Mom called today." Lizzie curled her fists into balls and waited for Jane to continue. "She and Dad are coming to Luke's new show."

Lizzie whirled around. "What? Both of them?" Jane nodded. "Together?" asked Lizzie in disbelief. "Yeah, I know." said Jane.

This was unreal, thought Lizzie. Her parents hadn't been in the same room together in ages. They weren't even going to go to Carly's wedding together. Her mother was going to the ceremony and her father was going to go to the reception.

Lizzie walked back to her room in a stupor. The day just had to be over. There wasn't any more weirdness that could fit into it. Why? Why on earth were her parents both coming to one of Uncle Luke's openings? He showcased a new artist every year. This wasn't the momentous occasion Lizzie had always imagined would be necessary to bring them into such close proximity again.

Lizzie painted for the next few hours. She usually did when she couldn't think of anything to say and Jane's news had left her speechless. She didn't stop until she heard both Lydia and Carly come home. Exhausted and a little angry with herself for using so much expensive canvas and paint for one evening, she put her paints away and washed her brushes. She flopped onto her bed and fell asleep before she remembered that she hadn't yet changed into her pajamas.

* * *

The next morning, Lizzie woke up late. Lydia, Carly and Jane were all up and watching TV when she walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning Lizzie," said Jane cheerily.

"Mmmeehhh," grunted Lizzie. She reached for the pitcher of orange juice and poured herself a glass.

"Oh good!" squealed Lydia. Lizzie glared at her younger sister. "Now that you're all up, I can tell you the news. I have been invited, by Tom, the Varsity lacrosse captain at Hofstra to a very hot party tonight and I can bring guests!" She looked at the rest of them with a very self-satisfied look on her face.

Jane and Lizzie looked skeptical. Carly seemed very enthusiastic. "Really? Ooh! Where is it?" she asked.

"I don't remember the exact name. Tom's going to call me tonight with directions. Apparently it's near your school, Jane," answered Lydia.

"Exactly how long have you known Tom Varsity Lacrosse Captain, Lydia?" asked Lizzie.

"Oh don't be silly, Liz," said Carly, sounding slightly annoyed. "It will be perfectly fine if we all go together. It will be a wonderful opportunity for all of us to meet some new people. You and Jane really should get out there more."

Lizzie opted for finishing off her orange juice rather than say what she wanted to say to Carly.

"Exactly," said Lydia, glad to see she had someone on her side. I definitely plan on going and so does Carly. It will be safer the more of us there are. You two should come! You'd have fun too, I promise!"

Jane gave Lizzie a look that she couldn't interpret so early in the morning. "Why don't we wait to see if Tom calls," Jane said, noncommittally. She rose and went to her room. Lizzie put her glass in the sink and went back to her own room. Stupid Lydia and her stupid parties. Another one of the reasons Lizzie didn't want to go to college. Of course she loved to have a good time, but the whole college party scene was really not her. She continued painting and completely lost track of time until she heard a knock on her door and glanced at the clock as she went to open it. It was a little past five o'clock. "Hey, Jane," Lizzie said as her sister came in.

"Wow," Jane said, looking around the room. "Been quite busy haven't you? Can I see anything?"

"Not yet," Lizzie flushed and covered up the canvas she had been working on. Jane didn't ask again. She knew she'd be able to see the painting when Lizzie had determined that it was finished.

"I went grocery shopping. Got you some sushi. I imagine you're hungry."

"Ooh! Thanks, Jane!" Lizzie took the little box of sushi from her sister and began to eat. She was starving and didn't even realize.

"Listen, Tom called Lydia and she and Carly are set on going. I think we should go with them," Jane said in a soft voice.

"Why?" Lizzie answered with a full mouth. "You and I both can't stand those parties. And they can always take a cab home."

"Lizzie, I'm really worried about Carly. I think we should both go and keep an eye on her. I don't think she should go to a party where she only knows one person who, in all likelihood, will leave with someone else. Lydia won't watch her. I think we should."

Lizzie grumbled. "God, I don't know why Carly is being so stupid about this. I'm so..." Lizzie couldn't think of what she was. Angry that Carly was being so careless. Sad that she had lost one of her best friends.

"Lizzie," Jane said quietly. "I know you're upset with Carly for more than one reason. And rightly so. But she is still your cousin and best friend. We need to watch out for her."

Lizzie knew her sister was right. She knew from the moment Jane had said they should go to the party that they would. She knew she couldn't say no to her sister and she couldn't let Lydia and Carly go to the party by themselves. All she really wanted to do was stay home and paint. She wanted to call Luke and apologize. Lizzie swallowed the last bit of sushi. "When are we leaving?"

Jane smiled. "Around nine I think. Thanks Lizzie!"

Lizzie tried to get a little more painting in, but found she couldn't concentrate. She cleaned up and began to get ready. She wasn't usually overly concerned with how she looked when she went to a party, but she figured if she was going to be upset about being there, then she wouldn't be upset about the way she looked. She was going to look hot!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

* * *

"Oh my god," Lydia announced. "Lizzie...you look...presentable. For once."

"Gee thanks," said Lizzie sarcastically. But on the inside she was pleased. That was considered quite a compliment from her younger sister. Lizzie was wearing a pleated black skirt that reached the middle of her thigh, a silver chain belt, a dark red, off-the-shoulder shirt and some black strappy sandals. She looked nothing near as pretty as Jane (no one ever did) but she felt very good about herself tonight.

The four girls were about ready to leave when they heard the door open. It was Carter letting himself in. He looked at them for a moment with wide eyes. "You all look gorgeous! How'd you know I was coming over? You really shouldn't have gone to all this fuss."

Lydia gave the girlish giggle that always appeared when she was getting ready to go out. Lizzie rolled her eyes and turned back to Carter. "What are you doing in the city? I thought you were working at the garage this weekend."

"Lizzie, you're a nut! I told you yesterday that your dad gave me the weekend off and I asked you if it would be ok if I spent the weekend here with you. Remember?"

Lizzie grinned sheepishly. What with the fight with Luke and her parents coming to town, she had forgotten. "I'm so sorry, Carter. I completely forgot. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Carter smiled and leaned out the door to grab his bag, which was in the hallway. "So where are you ladies going?"

"Oh! We're going to a party near the Columbia campus that Lydia got invited to. Want to come?" Lizzie asked, trying to be nonchalant, and knowing Carter would see right through it.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You're going to a party? A Columbia party?"

"Shut up, Carter. You coming or not?"

"Oh yeah I am. I haven't seen you at a party in months. Maybe I can get you drunk," he smiled and walked into Lizzie's bedroom to change.

"Hurry up Carter, we don't want to be late," said a frustrated Lydia.

"Being a half-hour late to a party like this won't make a difference," whispered Lizzie under her breath as she walked towards Jane's room. "Oh my god!" she said mocking Lydia. "I missed a keg stand! Whatever will I do!"

"Hey, now," said Jane, following her. She closed the door of her bedroom behind them. "Relax, Lizzie. Honestly, what on earth is wrong with you? Ever since you got back from the gallery yesterday you've been in a rotten mood. I've never known you to be in a bad mood for so long before. What happened?"

Lizzie knew she was acting terribly. She couldn't shake the cloud that had been hanging over since she had fought with Luke. It was this feeling of self-doubt that Luke had planted in her. It was making her feel awful. She told Jane what had happened at the gallery. "...and now I've been wondering if I _have_ made a mistake. I'm angry with myself for yelling at him...I don't know," she sighed and flopped down on the bed.

Jane sat next to her. "Lizzie, I've never seen you happier than when you were here, painting and making your own rules. I know this isn't what the family expected of you, but I never doubted that you made the right decision. College isn't you, Lizzie. For a lot of people it is, but you aren't a lot of people and I love you for deciding what works for you and sticking with it. I think...ever since Carly decided to get married, you've been having doubts about your art, your life, and your friends. I know her decision surprised you and that your relationship has changed forever because of it, but you can't doubt yourself. You know what's best for you. I believe you are doing the right thing. I wish I could be as sure about my life as you seem to be about yours."

Lizzie smiled and hugged her sister. Jane never failed to make her feel ten times better. "Now," Jane said, "you can't go to a party feeling down. You need a little pick-me-up." Her eyes twinkled.

"Jane!" said Lizzie laughing. "I'll have one if you have one!"

Jane grinned at Lizzie and they went into the kitchen where they found Lydia, Carly and Carter had already found the vodka.

"Heeeey! Lizzie! Jane!" yelled Lydia, pink cheeked. "Have a shot before we go!"

Lizzie downed one quickly and, squinting, decided she'd wait until the party for more. Jane put the shot glass to her lips, but Lizzie was the only one who noticed that she didn't actually have more than a sip. Now that they were all 'ready' they made their way down the five flights of stairs and onto the street to call a cab.

* * *

"Man, I'm so squished!" Lydia complained once they were all in the cab. "My shirt is going to be so wrinkled!"

"Lydia, I'm sure, by the end of the night your shirt will be very wrinkled anyway," grinned Carter. Lydia punched him. "So Lizzie," he whispered. "Am I going to force you to have fun tonight? Or will you manage on your own?"

Lizzie laughed. "I'll be fine, Carter. Just because we haven't been to a party together in a while doesn't mean I have forgotten how it's done!"

"Well, you did forget that I was coming over this weekend. What kind of friend are you anyway?" he asked, feigning offense.

"My dear, I offer my deepest apologies. Is there anyway in the world I can make it up to you?"

Carter grinned again. "There is one way..."

Lizzie smiled until it dawned on her. "Oh no, Carter. I don't do that anymore! It's been ages; I'm probably not even any good anymore!"

"Give me a break! You probably practice in your room! Come on, I haven't won once since we stopped playing together. And you owe me one anyway."

"Fine," Lizzie grumbled, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'll play beer pong with you. But only if they already have a table up and I'll only play until we lose. No more."

Carter's grin got even bigger. "Ha! This night is going to be excellent."

* * *

Darcy groaned spectacularly at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't believe he'd been roped into to going to a stupid childish party like this. Caroline had been adamant and Charlie, who had been very bored, had jumped at the opportunity to get out for the night. Darcy could think of half a dozen places that would have been much more entertaining for them to go to tonight, but the Bingleys had settled on this silly college party. He was too old for this. When he mentioned that to Charlie, all he got was a laugh in the face.

"Darce! You sound like an old man when you speak like that. Come to the party and try to pretend that you aren't a hundred years old. There'll be plenty of new and interesting people for you to meet."

Bings didn't get it. William Darcy didn't meet people. They met him. "Oh come off it," he told his reflection. "Face facts, man! You suck at meeting new people." He'd always been more on the shy side, but since moving to the States to get his MBA he'd been even more introverted. All these vulgar Americans and their, "Oh my god! Are you from England?"

Darcy rolled his eyes. He got that every time he opened his mouth to begin an intelligent conversation. Then he had to correct them. "No I'm from Scotland." "Oh, really? Where's that?"

But Charlie had insisted he come. Charlie was one of the only Americans he could tolerate. In fact, Darcy liked Charlie quite a lot. They were fast becoming good friends and were it not for Caroline, Charlie would have been the perfect friend. Unfortunately, Bings and his sister lived together in the city and Caroline had developed a bit of a thing for Darcy.

And now he had to spend the entire evening with people he didn't know getting drunk. And possibly worse, Caroline getting drunk.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

* * *

Lizzie and Carter had gone through five rounds of beer pong before they were defeated and Lizzie couldn't pretend that she didn't have a good time. She and Carter were very good for never having gone to college. Lizzie had come to the decision that the only thing she could learn how to do better if she did go to college was play pong. She and Carter made their way to the patio.

"Woops!" said Carter, helping Lizzie to right herself after she tripped on an empty beer can. "You all right? I'll say you've lost some of your tolerance. Haven't done this in a while, have you?"

Lizzie did feel a little dizzy. "Let's sit, Car." He found them a pair of chairs. "No, I haven't done this in a while, but I'll sober up in a few minutes and I'll be fine. You were the one who made me play pong anyway. It's your fault I've been reduced to my present state."

Carter laughed. "Too true. I'm thoroughly evil. But evil as I am, I'll stay with you till you can walk without falling."

"Good plan," said Lizzie. "Where's Carly and Lydia?"

"Lydia is draped over those two tough looking guys over there--"

"The girls like a blanket! She belongs on a bed."

"--and Carly is chatting up that short guy who we played pong with the third time around."

"The short guy?"

"Yeah, you know, he was wearing the neon shirt--"

"Yes I know who he is! Jeez, she's really desperate, isn't she?"

Carter looked at her blankly. "She's just lonely, Liz, you know that. Let her have Shorty. Unless you want him, then I'll be sure to go right over there and break the two of them up."

Lizzie laughed loudly. "No, she got him first. Damn! If only I'd been faster." She and Carter chuckled. "Where's Jane?"

Carter looked around. "I don't know." He frowned. Lizzie sobered up immediately. "Actually, I haven't seen her since we started playing pong. You want to go look for her?"

"Yeah," Lizzie stood up. She hadn't seen Jane in a while. They made their way back into the house and had looked through three rooms before finding her in a corner talking to a blond man Lizzie had never seen before. Catching sight of them, Jane motioned for them to come over.

"Lizzie, Carter--this is Charlie Bingley. He goes to Columbia too. That girl over there with the black hair is his sister Caroline and that man standing by the fern is his best friend William Darcy." Lizzie looked at the girl Caroline who was regarding the keg with a look of confusion and disgust. The man Jane pointed out as Darcy was more standing behind the fern rather than by it. He looked determined not to notice anyone. Oh dear, she thought to herself. What kind of weird guy has Jane made friends with now?

But, to Lizzie's delight, Charlie Bingley was as kind and friendly and Jane herself was. He expressed an unfeigned interest when he found out that Lizzie painted and admired Carter for his work as a mechanic. But he paid much more attention to Jane. Lizzie could tell her sister really liked this guy.

As she and Carter left Jane and Charlie to themselves, Carter raised his eyebrows at her and Lizzie smiled lightly in response. She sat down in the cleanest looking chair she could find and Carter went to chat up some girl who was looking rather lonely.

All in all, Lizzie was having a very good time at this party. Carly wasn't getting into nearly as much trouble as Lizzie had expected, Jane had met what seemed like a fabulous new guy and she and Carter were having fun like they used to when they were in high school. Ever since they had graduated and Lizzie moved to the city, they had spent less time with each other; it was good be together at parties again.

Suddenly Lizzie noticed that Charlie's friend Darcy had moved to one of the pillars near her chair. He was a handsome guy. Tall with dark, curly hair and...well, he did have very nice broad shoulders. Lizzie would have smiled at him, but he was surveying the guests of the party with a look of mild distaste. He certainly wasn't making any attempt to enjoy himself. Lizzie laughed slightly. Maybe if he loosened up and grabbed a beer he would have a little more fun. She turned around in her chair and saw Carter making the girl he was talking with laugh.

She heard her sister's name being mentioned behind her. Glancing quickly she saw that Charlie had come up to talk to his friend. "...name's Jane Bennet. She goes to Columbia too. Physical therapy. Can't believe I haven't seen her before."

"You two haven't completely different classes," Lizzie heard Darcy say.

"Yes, but I mean on campus or at the library or something. Anyway, I'm so glad I've met her. She's very smart. Very nice," Charlie said, eagerly.

"Beautiful too, I suppose," said Darcy, appearing bored.

"Of course she is! Darcy you saw her. She's an angel" Lizzie grinned. Darcy raised his eyebrows at Charlie in disbelief. Lizzie glared at him.

"I guess this means we'll be at this terrible party for a while longer then, eh?"

"Darce, I have to stay a bit longer. I want to talk to Jane some more. I just came over to make sure you were doing well."

"Doing well? Here? Surely you jest, Bings. I'd have more fun if I were in my micro class with Professor Trisento."

Charlie laughed. "Darcy! The party isn't nearly so bad. You could meet some of Caroline's friends--" Darcy scoffed "--or get yourself a beer."

"I've tried. It's mostly foam." Lizzie had to agree with this. She and Carter probably drank it all. She laughed to herself again.

"Or there," continued Charlie," there's Jane's sister. I think her name's Lizzie. She's a painter. I could get Jane to introduce you. She's very pretty."

Lizzie smiled again. This Charlie guy was rising higher and higher on her list of great guys. He was almost good enough for Jane by now.

But Darcy heaved a loud, frustrated sigh. "Bingley, enough. I'll not be passed off to some eccentric artist turned drunken wallflower. I'd rather throw myself from a moving car."

Lizzie sat straight up. She didn't just hear that. No person on earth would say something like that about another person sitting not six feet away.

"Jeez. That was a bit harsh, Darcy," Charlie whispered to his friend.

Lizzie turned around and she and Darcy looked at each other for a moment. His eyes widened briefly, then, recovering himself, he frowned and said, "I'm sorry, Charlie. I'm going to go. Tell Caroline I'm sorry for leaving early." He stormed away, leaving Charlie staring after him.

Charlie smiled sheepishly at Lizzie and walked quickly back towards Jane. Lizzie stood up and looked around the party. She was furious. She ran quickly to the beer pong table and grabbed a cup full of beer then made her way to the front entrance where Darcy was getting his coat. Lizzie had every intention of spilling the beer onto his expensive looking suit, but then stopped herself. She wasn't going to let this namby-pamby, arrogant asshole turn her into some angry drunk. No, she thought. She'd be her wonderful, eloquent self and give him a smart telling off that would last longer than a beer stain on his precious suit.

Lizzie tapped Darcy lightly on the shoulder and he turned around. "Hi!" she said cheerily. "Haven't we met before? I thought I saw you last weekend at that club downtown...you know...the one on 14th Street?"

Darcy's frown grew more severe. "Positively not. I don't go to places like that..." he trailed off, realizing that he was in for more than a pick-up line.

"Oh neither do I," Lizzie said, the fake smile immediately wiped from her face. "You just looked like the kind of guy who might, that's all. I was just curious. You know, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt before just assuming the worst about someone I haven't even met. Anyway, I'm Lizzie." She held up the beer in her hand to Darcy and smiled again. "Beer?"

Darcy backed away. "No, I was just on my way out, actually," he muttered.

A triumphant Lizzie watched him stumble on his way out the door and took a swig of the beer in her hand. Turning back to the party, she saw Carter and Jane rounding up Carly and Lydia, both were very drunk.

"We need to go," said Jane, worriedly. "I think Lydia may pass out...are you ok?"

Lizzie grinned. "I'm wonderful. Let's go!"

Jane and Carter carried Lydia out the door and flagged down a cab while Lizzie helped Carly out of the house. Feeling very energized after her encounter with Darcy, Lizzie was a little sad to be leaving the party, but as soon as she got into the cab a feeling of exhaustion overwhelmed her and once she got back to the apartment, she fell asleep in an instant.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

* * *

The week following the party passed slowly. Lizzie noticed Jane in somewhat cheerier spirits than usual and attributed it to her meeting Charlie at the party. While Jane hardly spoke of him at all in front of other people, when she was alone with Lizzie he always seemed to come up in conversation.

They all were in the kitchen two days later, listening to Carter reciting a play-by-play of his and Lizzie's beer pong triumph when the subject of Bingley came up for the first time.

"...and then we were finally beaten, but it was close all the way until the end. It was a game that should truly go down in history. Then Lizzie and I found Jane being chatted up by this Charlie Bingles fellow."

"Charlie Bingley," corrected Jane. Lydia and Carly looked at Jane with eager interest.

"Let's hear all about him!" Lydia cried. "I want to know about this Charlie."

Jane told them about Charlie, his sister and his friend. "I really enjoyed his company. He seems like a very smart man. And his sister was wonderfully nice. I didn't get the chance to speak to his friend much, but I'm sure he's very nice too."

Lizzie snorted. "I'm quite sure he's not."

Jane looked up at her, somewhat startled. "What do you mean?"

Lizzie smirked and began to tell them all the story of what she had overheard Charlie and Darcy talking about at the party. When she got to the part where she had told off Darcy, Jane and Carly gasped and Lydia and Carter laughed.

"Anyways, it doesn't matter much what Sir William Darcy thinks of me seeing as how I don't give a shit about him," concluded Lizzie.

"But that didn't keep you from giving him a piece of your mind, did it, Lizzie?" laughed Carter.

Lizzie smiled. "Why should it? He had it coming. He is as conceited and annoying as Charlie is kind and charming. I'd be happy if I never saw him again."

Jane remained speechless for quite some time, no doubt trying, thought Lizzie, to justify Darcy's actions without hurting Lizzie's feelings. Later that night, Jane said, "Lizzie, I think Darcy must have been very tired and stressed. I can't imagine that a friend of Bingley's would ever want to offend anyone. It does not excuse his rudeness, but it may explain it."

Lizzie laughed. "Really, Jane. Don't worry about it. I'm not. In fact I'm glad I overheard Darcy and Charlie talking because I was able to hear Charlie saying how beautiful he thought you were."

Jane blushed slightly. "I really do like him, Lizzie. And I'm glad that he liked me too. He and his sister exchanged numbers with me and I hope I hear from him soon."

"You will, without a doubt. There's no way that he wouldn't call you," asserted Lizzie.

Lizzie was quite right about that, as it turned out. Caroline ended up calling Jane and inviting her over for dinner at the end of the week. Lizzie had mentioned to Jane that she didn't think much of Caroline, but Jane was so disposed to like her and Lizzie, not wanting to mar Jane's overall good opinion of Charlie, did not press the matter.

* * *

Lizzie woke up Wednesday morning, packed some of her art supplies and made her way across town to her weekly lesson with Rita Gardiner, a restoration artist with the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rita gave several classes a year and Lizzie had been to each one since she had moved to the city. Lizzie's talent and her voracious appetite for new information and painting techniques led to her and Rita becoming quite close. After the class Lizzie stayed after to catch up.

"How're things at the gallery?" Rita asked while she cleaned up a bottle of spilled paint.

"Fine," replied Lizzie. "Luke is getting his new artwork in today, actually. I'm going to go help him as soon as I get off work. This new exhibit is supposed to be fantastic. You should come! It's in a few weeks; I think you'll really enjoy it. Plus, you'll get to meet Luke."

Rita smiled. "I'd love to come. I'm always interested in new art. And I've heard so much about your uncle's gallery. Let me know the details next week and I'll try to make it happen." Rita finished cleaning and sat down at one of the desks. "And what about you? What have you been up to this week? Any new art I should know about?"

Lizzie blushed. "Nothing worth showing you now. Although I have painted a lot this week, actually. Luke and I had a disagreement and I felt particularly inspired," she laughed.

"That'll about do it," grinned Rita.

"I haven't talked to him since then. I'll have to apologize to him tonight when I see him." Lizzie glanced at the clock. "I'd better run, I have to be at work soon. See you next week, Rita!"

"Definitely!" called Rita as Lizzie ran out the door. Lizzie got on the subway and made her way to the travel agency where she worked. It was a small business, but as it was in a busy part of the city it did very well. Lizzie liked it for several reasons. Mostly, it allowed her time to paint and do her art, even when she was at work she doodled in a sketchbook while on the phone with customers. It also paid very well and, every once in a while, Lizzie was offered a free vacation.

Ms. Long, Lizzie's absent-minded boss, greeted her as she came in the door. "Ah, Lizzie! Mr. Jenkins is on the phone to finalize his vacation plans and I can't find them anywhere. You handled his plans, would you take care of him? Oh, and how long are you planning on staying this evening?"

"You scheduled me until 7:30 tonight, Ms. Long. Do you need me to stay later?" asked Lizzie as she pulled Mr. Jenkins's file out of the filing cabinet.

"No dear, I was just wondering."

Lizzie spent the rest of the evening at work and at 7:30, locked up and left the travel agency. It was still light out and Lizzie decided to walk to the gallery, which was only a few blocks away. It would give her time to phrase her apology to Luke perfectly and it afforded a wonderful view of the setting sun. Walking around New York City always exhilarated Lizzie. The sights and smells inspired her beyond measure and she couldn't wait to paint after one of her walks.

She rounded the corner and the bright white face of the gallery stood out. She had composed her apology speech and as she pushed open the large glass door she looked for her uncle.

"Luke?" she called. "You here?"

"In the back," came the muffled reply. Lizzie found Luke sitting at his desk up to his elbows in paperwork. "Hi," he said, shuffling through his drawers. "The paintings came with this huge contract. It's nothing too important, but I've got to get my lawyer to look at it."

"Luke," Lizzie started, "Can I just say that I'm so sorry. I never should--"

Luke put his hand up. "I'm sorry too. Let's forget about it, shall we? Come, I want to show you the paintings!"

Lizzie followed Luke out of his office and down into the basement. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She and Luke were back to being friends! And she was so excited about seeing the new artwork that she could have burst. She had seen pictures of Pedro Siestra's work before, but Lizzie knew that nothing could compare to seeing the original.

Luke moved to the nearest canvas and lifted the dust cover. Lizzie gasped and moved forward. It was an oil painting about 2 feet by 4 feet and it depicted what Lizzie saw immediately as a sunset. Of course, Siestra's paintings could be interpreted a number of different ways. That was what Lizzie found so interesting about them. Everyone saw it differently.

"What do you see?" asked Luke, with a curious smile on his face.

"A sunset," Lizzie responded in a half-whisper. Luke moved behind her and looked at the painting from her angle. "That's interesting. Carly and I both saw a fire."

"Carly came by?" asked Lizzie forcing herself to listen to her uncle.

"Yes. She told me about the guy Jane met. I hope he's good enough for her."

Lizzie laughed. "Oh, he's seems very nice. Quite the gentleman. He'll do for now, either way. It's about time she had a boyfriend," she said as she walked around the basement, lifting up other dust covers and peering at the paintings underneath.

"What about you? Don't you think you've been playing tormented artist a little too long? Where's your date to my opening?"

Lizzie took Luke's remark as the joke he meant it to be. "Ha! I'm hardly tormented. But, now that you mention date, I am bringing a friend of mine. Rita Gardiner. I've told you about her."

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Rita Gardiner from the Met? Wow, that will impress the critics. I'll have to tell Siestra's agent that she will be attending. Are you sure she's coming?"

"She seemed pretty excited about it. I'll call her later this week to make sure and then let you know."

"Thanks," said Luke. He looked like he was only half listening.

"Well, let's get to work, then," said Lizzie with a determined smile. She wanted to make sure that these beautiful paintings were displayed perfectly for the opening.

* * *

Lizzie was walking down the corridor to her apartment Friday evening after work. She was very frazzled after working for the past ten hours and handling more than one snotty customer. It is unfortunate when your hotel doesn't serve caviar after your travel agent had called and checked that it did, but threatening a lawsuit won't get the rare delicacy to you any faster.

Lizzie sighed and pushed her hair back. She heard the high pitched screams of her roommates before she even got to the door. Must be watching 100 Hottest Hotties on cable, she thought sarcastically. Searching for her key, Lizzie saw the hall light reflected in something off the floor by the apartment door. It was water. Gulping, Lizzie turned the key, but before she could open the door, it was thrown open by Lydia and Carly.

"Oh, thank god you're here, we called Ms. Long's but you'd already left and we tried Jane at Charlie's, but no one's answering and oh my god, _look_ at the floor!" Lydia pointed towards the bathroom.

The whole floor from the bathroom out through the kitchen and into the hallway was covered water. Lizzie dropped her bags on the couch and went to the bathroom door. Everything was soaked. She let out a little sob. "Ah! What happened?"

"We don't know. Terry and Gina upstairs have the same problem and so does Lady Nine Cats downstairs. They've all left to stay with friends. The super isn't here and we've all left some rather nasty messages on his machine," Carly said calmly. She and Lydia had some bags packed and waiting. "We tried to move the furniture towards the corner so it wouldn't get wetter than it already is. The bedrooms seem to be ok, but the bathroom, kitchen and living room are a mess. Obviously the carpet is completely ruined. We would have rolled it up and moved it too, but it was already pretty much soaked and we figured it would keep some of the water from going much further into the apartment."

Lizzie just stared. Eventually she managed to say, "Jane..."

Carly gave Lizzie a piece of paper. "She went to Charlie Bingley's for dinner. She left a number, but no one has answered for the past hour. I guess they're not taking calls. I've found his address, here it is. Lydia and I are going to be staying at Tom Perkins's place. You remember, the lacrosse captain. We tried to get them to let you and Jane stay too but apparently they have no more room. I was about to start calling some friends to look for a place for you when you came home. What do you want to do?"

Lizzie turned to look at Carly and gave her a hug. She'd had to deal with this abominable leak and, no doubt, a hysterical Lydia and she'd done it so calmly! Lizzie couldn't even begin to think of how much this was going to cost them and how long they'd have to stay out of their apartment.

Carly returned Lizzie's hug and said, "I made sure your art was well out of way of the water. Would you like help finding somewhere to stay?"

Lizzie hugged her tighter and then let go. "No. No, Carly, I'm sure you're exhausted. Give me your number at Tom's and I'll let you know as soon as Jane and I have found somewhere to stay. I'm just going to pack some things for us and I'll go get her at Charlie's place."

Carly was reluctant to go, but with Lizzie's reassurance and Lydia's pleading they left quite quickly. Lizzie grabbed two duffle bags and threw her clothes and Jane's clothes into them. She checked the water flow, which hadn't stopped yet, but it was running into the hallway and not into the bedrooms. She called a cab, turned off all the electricity and went to wait for the cab in the lobby.

She gave the driver Charlie's address and when they pulled in front of a very tall and regal-looking skyscraper, Lizzie sighed. Of course he'd be ridiculously wealthy. It had started to rain heavily and Lizzie had forgotten to pack a raincoat. She asked the driver to wait around the corner while she ran in.

The doorman stopped Lizzie before she could go inside. "Excuse me, miss. Whom are you visiting?"

"Uh, Charlie Bingley's place."

"Is he expecting you?"

Lizzie was about to scream. "No, he is not. My sister is here visiting him. I tried to call, but no one's answering and this is kind of an emergency."

The doorman looked her up and down with a poorly concealed sneer, which made Lizzie want to punch him in the nose. Apparently he thought her wet hair, soggy shoes and rumpled clothes indicated that she was in fact in an emergency, so he stepped aside and held the door open for her.

"Thanks," yelled Lizzie as she rushed inside and towards the elevators. They had benches in them.

Reaching Charlie's apartment, she rang the doorbell and an older man in a suit answered it. No way, thought Lizzie. He does not have a butler.

"Hello, miss. I assume you are Jane's sister?"

Lizzie must have given him a weird look because he smiled widely. "The front desk called up and informed me that the sister of our guest was here and in an emergency." He ushered Lizzie in the front hallway and produced a towel out of nowhere. Lizzie took it gratefully and began to dry herself.

"How come the front desk can get through on the phone, but I can't?"

"Separate lines," the butler said.

"Lizzie? Is that you?" a panicked voice called from further inside the penthouse. Jane came rushing into the foyer and hugged Lizzie. "What's wrong? Are you ok? Where are Lydia and Carly? I tried to call the house, but I couldn't get through at all."

"Everyone's fine, Jane, don't worry. It isn't that big of an emergency. I only said that so the doorman would let me in. I'm sorry I alarmed you."

Charlie slowly walked in. "I don't mean to interrupt," he said, "I only meant to find out if everything is ok."

Lizzie smiled at him. "Yes, everything is fine, thank you." She turned to Jane. "The apartment is flooded. Apparently something's wrong with the plumbing all along our side of the building. Our bedrooms are ok but the bathroom, kitchen and living room are completely soaked. The super wasn't there when I left but I gave him the number where he can reach Carly and Lydia; they are staying at Tom the lacrosse captain's house. Jane, we need to find a place to stay. I don't know how long it will take to be fixed." She lowered her voice, "We don't have the money to stay in a hotel and we can't commute from mom or dads. Do you know anyone we can stay with?"

Jane bit her lower lip and looked quietly at Lizzie. They both turned when they heard a little "ahem!" from behind them. Lizzie wasn't sure whether it was the butler or Charlie who had made it, but it was Charlie who spoke then.

"If you are looking for a place to stay while your apartment is being fixed, I hope you will stay with us. There is plenty of room here and it is close to campus. I would love to have you as guests for however long it takes for the problem to be fixed."

Lizzie looked at Jane blankly. It was totally up to her if she wanted to stay here. Charlie's sister came into the room then to inquire what the matter was. Charlie quickly explained to her the situation.

"Oh, yes, Jane! Please stay. We would be happy to help you out."

"I...I wouldn't want to impose. We don't know how long it will take..." Jane started.

"Nonsense!" Caroline. She practically pushed Lizzie and Jane into what looked like a library. "I insist. You need somewhere to stay, we have room and I must confess it will be fun having some girl roommates for a while. It gets very dull with only Charlie and Darcy here for company."

Lizzie stopped suddenly. Darcy? Darcy was staying with them? Lizzie groaned inwardly. This was going to be a huge mistake.

And there he was sitting in the armchair reading his little book by the fire. How quaint, thought Lizzie, eyeing him dangerously. Darcy looked up at the group and got to his feet.

"Nothing gone too badly wrong, then, I hope?" he inquired. A raised eyebrow was the only semblance of expression he allowed himself as he met Lizzie's eyes. Lizzie felt sure that her best efforts at controlling her expression were failing miserably. And she didn't much care. If she was going to have to spend the next few days in the same apartment as Darcy, a plan of action was needed, no matter how many libraries the damned place had.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

* * *

Darcy, Charlie and Caroline were alone in the library for not even a moment when Caroline began to insult Lizzie.

"Did you see her? She looked like a drowned rat! My god. I'm surprised the doorman let her in. What, did she walk all the way from the Village in the rain?"

Darcy hated when Caroline did this. And she did it often, he thought. At least when he happened to be around.

Charlie sighed and took another sip of his wine. "Caroline, her apartment has been flooded. I don't think her appearance was foremost on her mind. Anyways, I thought you liked Lizzie."

Darcy almost snorted into his wineglass. Obviously, Charlie, he thought, that is not the case.

"I only like her because she's Jane's sister. I don't know...there's just something about her that rubs me the wrong way. Perhaps it's that she calls herself an artist. You know how artists are. All bumbling and wild. Very impractical. I much prefer the company of more rational, sensible people, like Jane. Or you, Darcy.

Darcy gave Caroline an acknowledging nod while fighting an almost overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

Caroline continued, "I mean, honestly, Darcy. I'm sure you wouldn't want Georgiana to run about that way. All over New York in the rain." She looked at him expectantly.

Darcy wanted to leave. "Certainly not," he said, and started to walk around the library looking at the books on the shelves. Caroline, annoyed at not being able to get Darcy's full attention, turned to her brother.

"Do you know their father owns several garages outside of the city somewhere? Can you believe it? Car maintenance." She shuddered.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "Caroline, come on now. Relax."

She grimaced. "God, Charlie, I was only kidding." She rose from her chair and went to the door, brushing past Darcy on her way. "Well, I'm off to bed. What an evening." She paused a moment then said, "Goodnight Charlie...Darcy."

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. He thought she'd never leave.

"Isn't this excellent?" beamed Charlie. "Jane here! I mean, it's too bad about their apartment, but...well, you know what I mean. Jane is so amazing. There's definitely something there I think. A connection. Darce, don't you think this is excellent?"

Darcy expertly avoided giving Charlie a straight answer. "I think it was kind of you to offer to let them stay here." He most certainly did not think the situation was excellent.

But Charlie took his statement as an agreement and pronounced that he too was off to bed, leaving Darcy alone.

He sat back in his chair and ran his hands over his tired face. When Lizzie had confronted him at the party he had felt humbled, for the first time since his father died. She had been the only person besides his parents to ever put him soundly in his place. And for this reason, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Well, there were other reasons, but he couldn't admit them to himself until tonight. It had surprised him a great deal when Lizzie had suddenly appeared in the library. What surprised him more was how very much he was attracted to her. Sopping wet or no, she was striking.

It was unusual for him to be attracted to someone like Lizzie. Someone with whom he had nothing in common. Caroline had been right about one thing; Lizzie did seem rather wild. Almost lost. Darcy couldn't stand indecision and it seemed like Lizzie was rife with it. Letting the wind blow her to where ever it chose. Darcy preferred not to leave the choosing to the wind.

And so, Darcy decided that it was probably a good idea for him to just go to sleep. Well, he thought, it's likely that we won't see each other much while she's here."

* * *

"I'm going to take some extra shifts at the agency," declared Lizzie as she and Jane began to unpack the few things Carly had managed to throw in a duffle bag for them. The room Caroline had shown them to was huge, not that Lizzie was surprised. She had probably wanted to show off the grandeur of her apartment. Lizzie was delighted, however, to have found an adjoining bathroom with jets in the tub. She had taken a good long soak and, with the exception of one problem (Darcy's being in the same apartment), she felt much better.

"But why?" asked Jane as she put away some of her clothes.

"Well, I'm almost positive our landlord isn't going to pay for all the damage, so we're going to need the money. But mostly, I don't want to be in the apartment if Darcy's going to be here."

"Lizzie, you don't need to worry about the money. We'll all help out. It's not like this was your fault. As for Darcy, I think you should talk to him about it. I don't really know what to say, but you shouldn't have to be so upset about what he said."

"I can be as upset as I like about what he said, Jane. It was rude and mean." Lizzie viciously stuffed a pair of pants into a drawer. "Did you not see him tonight? Wouldn't say a word to me, wouldn't even look at me! What the hell is his problem anyway? It's not like I insulted him." Jane gave Lizzie an understanding look that made Lizzie relax a bit more. "But you're right. I'm not going to be upset anymore. He isn't going to make me feel bad. This is Charlie's house and Charlie wants both of us to stay, so little old Darcy can just stuff it."

* * *

Carter had met Lizzie at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The landlord had said it would be two weeks before they could move back in to their own place and after four days Lizzie needed to postpone her return to the "Flat of Imperiousness" as she had dubbed it.

"Wow, Liz," said Carter as they meandered through the halls. "You must fit in there like a glove."

"Yeah, you know me. Always the height of fashion and society. I'm throwing a ball next week. The invitations in all their calligraphied glory will arrive soon."

"But Jane must be psyched about this right? I mean, it means more time with Charlie. He's still as good as gold, isn't he?"

"I guess so. Jane's still crazy about him. And he's the only one who's nice to me. He and Jane pretty much spend their evenings snuggled up together in the living room and chatting about which Columbia professor has the hairiest back or something."

Carter laughed. "I doubt that's what they're talking about. Or that they're even talking. What about Darcy and Caroline? You don't all get together for a jolly game of whist, do you?"

"No, I'm sorry my whist skills aren't really up to snuff. Actually I either sketch or watch TV. The Daily Show or something. One good thing about Darcy, the guy's definitely not a remote hog. He spends most of his time on the phone or in the library. Caroline is basically his lap dog so she's usually with him. Unless she's trying to get me to admit I'm in love with Darcy."

Carter began to choke through his laughter. "I'm glad you find this so amusing, Carter. Someone should I guess," Lizzie grinned as she slapped Carter on the back.

"Wha-what? You in love with Darcy!"

"I know! Apparently she thinks that's the reason I wanted to stay with them until our place was fixed, even though Charlie was the one who came up with the idea. There's no one I'd rather be around less than Darcy. Except maybe my mother. Although, it's really not all bad. Jane and I have been having some nice alone time. No Lydia or Carly, you know."

"And how are they doing?"

"Great actually. They are staying with that lacrosse guy still. Carly actually seems to be back to normal. Who knew it would take a flooded apartment to do it. We had a long conversation on the phone last night. Catching up, I guess."

"Well, good then. Ooh, look!" Carter exclaimed, pointing to a sign that said "cafe." "I'm starved. Want me to get you something?"

Lizzie waved a hand. "Nah, I'm good. I'll wait for you."

"No don't," Carter grinned. "I've learned my lesson not to stand between you and Renoir. Go ahead without me, I'll catch up."

"Ok, sure." Lizzie made her way to the Renoir. She didn't recall thinking of anything very important, but she must have been very engrossed for when she turned a corner she ran straight into Darcy's chest. His very hard chest, she couldn't stop herself from thinking.

Neither person moved away so they were standing right up against each other when Darcy moved his hands to Lizzie's shoulders to stop her from falling over. She had to crane her neck all the way back to see him from this angle, he was so tall. The top of her head barely made it to his chin.

Realizing they were still pretty much on top of each other, they both took a quick step backwards.

"Forgive me," said Darcy stiffly. "I should have been looking where I was going."

"Not at all, it was my fault," Lizzie said as she flicked her hair back in a vain attempt to get a hold on the situation. What on earth was Darcy doing here? This was her sanctuary. He was invading her sanctuary! Blasphemer! she thought wildly. Ok, relax, she told herself. This isn't helping.

"Umm. Come here often?"

"Not often. I come when I can. Most of my business isn't in this area of town. I enjoy it here though. It's a relaxing space." Darcy shifted his feet.

Well, it used to be anyway, Lizzie thought. "It's a big space as well," continued Lizzie, desperate for the conversation to end. It was already the longest conversation she had ever had with Darcy. "Yep. Lot's of rooms to see." She paused, hoping he'd take that as a hint to leave. He didn't. "And, this one is probably my favorite. Renoir. I come here a lot. Quite the guy with a brush." Good. Maybe if he knew she spent most of her time there he wouldn't come back.

"Quite," was all he said. They spent another moment in awkward silence. Lizzie was about to launch into the most boring rendition of Renoir's history when she heard Carter calling her. He suddenly appeared behind her with two coffees in hand. Glancing from Darcy to Lizzie, he waited patiently for Lizzie to introduce him. When he realized that Lizzie wasn't quite up to speed just then he handed her cup to her and stuck his hand out to Darcy.

"Hey, who's this? I'm Carter."

Lizzie's brain jerked back into function. "Carter, this is Darcy. Darcy, Carter."

"Oh, right, Lizzie's staying with you, yeah?"

Darcy nodded mutely, shaking Carter's hand. Lizzie could feel anger bubbling up inside her. Why couldn't he at least say something to Carter? Why did he have to be such a jerk?

"Well, I should be off," Darcy said. "I suppose I'll see you around."

"Yeah I suppose so," said Lizzie to Darcy's retreating back. "God, I'm so sorry, Carter. He's such an ass."

"Yeah, he does seem a little cold. So, do you and Darcy have your little trysts here often then?"

"Shut up Carter. I didn't know he'd be here. I didn't even think he went to museums. Does he even like art?"

"Everybody likes art. Art is...art is life." Carter struck a mock solemn pose.

"How very eloquent of you. Thanks for the coffee by the way."

"No problem. Maybe you and he can discuss the finer points of Picasso. 'In your opinion, Elizabeth,'" Carter began in a terrible Scottish accent, "'do you prefer the post-modern works of So-And-So or the impressionist works of Whosit and can you tell me which I should purchase for my manor if the walls in my sitting room have been painted a violent shade of peach.'"

"Can you even have a violent shade of peach?"

"I imagine Darcy could if he wanted it."

"I think you're right. I can't believe he was here. If he had stayed any longer I think Renoir would have been ruined for me for the foreseeable future."

"Ah, don't let him get you into a funk Lizzie. You're ok, right?"

"I'm bursting with fruit flavor!" she grinned at Carter then looked around her. "Being here makes me want to paint!"

"So why don't you then? Painter's block?"

"No. I just can't get in the mood when I'm at Charlie's. It feels weird to be painting there."

"Come on, Liz, suck it up! There's got to be some empty little room in there where you can get down to business."

* * *

Darcy had never been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art before. He mentally chided himself for it. He had prided himself on being cultured and after six months of living in New York City he still had not gone. His visit this afternoon was entirely by accident. He hailed a cab after a surprisingly short day at work and was about to go home. As he climbed into the cab, he saw a poster for a new photography exhibit at the Met. The rapidity with which his mind flew to Lizzie took him by surprise. She seemed to be popping up everywhere now. He'd even allowed himself to indulge these feelings for a while, as long as he didn't feel himself in danger of being serious. So, having a few hours to kill, he decided to go.

How very fitting, then, that after only a half-hour of being there he should literally run into Lizzie. Feeling her against him was much more pleasant than he thought it would be. And he had thought about it. What really threw him for a loop was the unexpected jealousy he felt when Lizzie's friend Carter introduced himself. At that moment, he knew that his feelings for Lizzie were more serious than he planned on allowing. He made excuses quickly, perhaps a little rudely, and left the museum immediately. He didn't mean to be so rude and awkward around her, it was just that she so completely threw him off. And she probably didn't even know she was doing it; a quality that endeared her even more to him. It was a vicious cycle. He'd have to learn to control himself in front of her.

* * *

There had been no one in the apartment for two whole hours and Lizzie had been spending the time painting cheerfully in one of the many "parlors," as the butler called them. She had her headphones on and her wavy dark hair had been pulled back, but was coming down in places because she'd been semi-dancing as she worked. This parlor had an amazing view of Central Park and her easel was facing the window. Lizzie rarely did landscapes (she liked to think of her art as falling more or less into the large genre of "abstract") but she found the view inspiring; it made her canvas feel like an infinite space.

Smiling, she thought that this was the first time since her apartment flooded that she was really happy. Content. She relished having some time to herself just to paint and all thoughts of a surly Darcy, silly mother and depressed friend flew from her.

She pushed the pause button on her CD player and looked at her painting. It was so quiet in here. The canvas was almost covered. It wasn't her best work, but it wasn't finished yet. There was something wrong with size of it though.

She plopped down into one of the plush armchairs by the window and turned the music back on.

Earlier that day, Lizzie's father had called her. Apparently the son of his college roommate was going to be in town next week and was looking for a place to stay. While Lizzie wasn't thrilled about having someone she didn't know stay at the apartment, she didn't really have a choice. So Benjamin Collins would be staying at their place. Then her boss, Mrs. Long was throwing a party that she was invited to, along with all of her roommates. Lizzie wasn't exactly looking forward to it either, but Mrs. Long always loved throwing little soirees every now and then. What was really keeping Lizzie going was the opening of the exhibit at Luke's gallery. She couldn't wait for it. She hadn't found a date yet, but if all else failed, she could always take Carter . . . as long as he didn't find a date.

Lizzie quickly grabbed her brush and stood next to her painting. While she tried to figure out what was wrong with it, a voice behind her made her jump. "Oh, excuse me."

She dropped her brush as she fumbled to take of her headphones.

"You scared me," she said, shortly.

"Not intentionally, I assure you," said Darcy. He didn't look the least bit sorry. "There's a book in here I need.'

Lizzie motioned towards the bookshelves. As he began to look through them, Lizzie realized her canvas was still uncovered. She turned the easel around quickly.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed your painting," Darcy said, looking at her.

"It's ok," Lizzie almost whispered. What was wrong with her? She felt so vulnerable. Why wouldn't he leave? She had never wanted him to see her work.

Darcy turned back to the books. "It looks nice."

"Excuse me?"

"Your painting. It looks nice. It doesn't look like Central Park though. A little more wild."

Lizzie flushed. "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry," Darcy backpedaled. "I don't know anything about art. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Well I don't know about that, but even if you didn't know anything about art, you can still comment on it. What did you mean?" Lizzie was actually asking him for his opinion now. Well, she thought, don't get mad if he says something mean. You invited this.

"I don't know…" Darcy hesitated. "It looked like your painting wanted to be bigger and it couldn't get out. Not like you need a bigger canvas or anything, just…" he trailed off.

Lizzie silently walked around the easel to face her painting. He was right—kind of. She looked up at him again in astonishment.

He took a step forward. "May I see it again?"

Lizzie regained her composure and stepped back a bit. "Um, no. No one's allowed to see them until they're done."

Darcy nodded and continued to look for his book.

Good lord! Why couldn't he find his stupid book? Lizzie shifted uncomfortably. Why did it always feel like she was waiting for him to say something important? He always looked so serious. And why was she talking to him about her art? She turned to face the window. Lizzie hated awkward situations. She felt his eyes on her but she wouldn't turn around. She couldn't.

"Here it is." Finally.

"I'll see you later, Lizzie." She didn't turn around as he left the room.

* * *

Damn! Damn damn damn! He felt like putting his fist through a wall, he had so much pent up awkward energy. What just happened? Why did he continue to put himself in situations where he had to speak to her? He always messed it up!

You insulted her art, you idiot, he thought. What were you thinking? Why did you even think about mentioning her painting? She wouldn't even look at you. You can't do this anymore. Get it together. That's enough. This is going to stop right now. It was just that she looked so beautiful by the window…no! Stop! She's leaving in three days. Three more days and she'll be gone…


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

* * *

Well, it was official. Jane was in love with Charlie. Lizzie was so happy for her sister, even if she was a little alarmed at how quickly it had happened. But she thought the close quarters over the past two weeks had sped things up.

Jane and Lizzie were now comfortably back in their fixed apartment and waiting for the arrival of Benjamin Collins.

"You know, Jane, I've never known a Benjamin who didn't go by Ben. This guy seems pretty ridiculous from what Dad was saying."

Jane looked up from her textbook. "I'm sure he's fine. He'll only be here for a week. You'll manage."

"After spending two weeks at Charlie's I don't know if I can handle it. It's been a whirlwind adventure. And it's nowhere near being over."

"Lizzie, did you really hate being at Charlie's?"

"Well, no. It was no picnic, but I didn't hate it. Caroline was hardly discreet about her dislike of me. Darcy was . . . rude and awkward. Charlie was very kind though. He and his butler really tried to make me feel at home."

The buzzer sounded. "I suppose that's Benjamin," Jane got up and buzzed him through.

Lizzie opened the door to a short, pudgy sort of man who smiled obsequiously at her and stepped into the room.

"Hello! I am Benjamin. I assume your father told you I'd be staying here." He grinned idiotically at them and sat down on the sofa. As he did, his shirt, which was a little too tight for him, slid up around his waist and Lizzie caught a glimpse of his pale and hairy stomach.

Lizzie was a little too grossed out by him to speak.

"Yes, he did. I'm glad you were able to visit," said Jane, pleasantly. "I'm Jane and this is Lizzie. Lydia and Carly aren't here right now, but you'll meet them tonight. Let me show you to your room."

Benjamin picked up his one suitcase and smoothed down his greasy hair so it stuck to his forehead. "Thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I was hoping to see the sights while I'm working in the city. Maybe one of you would be kind enough to show me around at some point?"

Lizzie decided to speak up before Jane said something too nice. "We would love to show you around, Benjamin, but as you know, Jane is busy at school and I with work. We would be happy to tell you the best places to go, though."

"And," piped in Jane, "we have several plans in the evenings this week. You are welcome to come along, if you wish."

Lizzie groaned inwardly.

"Benjamin fiddled with his hair. "Yes, I think that would be very nice. Now where is my room?"

As Jane showed him where he'd be staying, Lizzie ran to her room, grabbed a canvas, some supplies and her coat.

"Jane," she yelled to her sister," I think I'm going to go see Rita, I just remembered that she wanted to talk about the opening." Lizzie was almost out the door when Jane caught up to her.

"You're leaving me here with him?" Jane hissed.

Lizzie pouted. "Jane, I'm sorry, but he just poses too easy a target. I think I'd blow a gasket trying to hold my tongue."

Jane frowned. Lizzie was reluctantly changing her mind when Carly and Lydia burst through the door.

"We've just come from Tom's! Did you know that they're holding a lacrosse clinic there and some other college teams are going to be visiting? This is going to be wonderful! All those lacrosse players…"

Lizzie flashed a smile at Jane and slipped through the door as Lydia rattled on about the clinic. With Carly and Lydia there, Jane could beg off entertaining Benjamin.

* * *

Lizzie caught a bus to the museum and found Rita in the basement staring at a very small canvas.

"Lizzie! I haven't seen you in weeks!" Rita gave Lizzie a hug. "Where have you been? I was hoping you could tell me about the opening. I'd like to come if I'm still invited."

"Of course you are," Lizzie smiled. "I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while. Our apartment was flooded and Jane and I ended up staying at a friend's place while it was being fixed."

"Oh my, I hope everything turned out all right. You look kind of tired."

Lizzie shrugged. "The apartment is fine. The place we stayed belonged to a friend of Jane's. Charlie Bingley. He's wonderful and Jane's pretty attached to him, but his sister and his friend were also there and they are not what I would call pleasant people."

"Really? What happened?"

"Nothing in particular. Caroline, his sister, was just bordering on rude and Darcy was snotty and awkward."

"Did you at least manage to get some work done?"

"Very little." Lizzie sighed. "I brought you this." Lizzie pulled out the painting she had been working on at Charlie's. "What do you think?"

"Hmm," Rita said as she studied the painting. Lizzie had tried to finish it after Darcy had made his comments. She couldn't put the thing out of her mind. The more she tried to fix it, the more it seemed to go wrong. "Lizzie, this is a landscape."

"Well, I'm glad you can tell that much from it! I can't seem to make it work."

"I've never seen a landscape from you before." Rita put the canvas on one of her easels. "Talk to me," she told Lizzie.

"I was inspired by the view I had of the Park out of one of Charlie's windows. The sun was out that day and everything looked so bright."

"Well, your colors are wonderful, but this is not a color study."

"No, I know. It didn't start out as one either. After two hours Darcy barged in on me—"

"Charlie's friend?"

"Yeah. I forgot to cover the painting and he told me that my painting looked too big."

"Too big?"

"Yeah, like it wanted to get out. Those were his words. Since then I haven't been able to finish the thing. But I can't stop thinking about it."

"About what he said or about the painting?"

Lizzie frowned. "Well, both I guess. I don't know why it should bother me so much. He wasn't insulting my work or anything…but honestly, where does he get off? He doesn't know anything about art."

"Well, I'd say that I agree with him."

Lizzie looked startled. "You'd say that?"

Rita smiled at her and pointed to the canvas. "I didn't believe that this was your work at first. It's so unlike anything you've ever done. The paint doesn't reach the edge of the canvas. You've always used up all the space you had. And the color choices… they are dull around the edges, but towards the middle they become brighter. It's interesting."

"Interesting bad or interesting good?" Lizzie started to bite her nails.

"Lizzie, relax! It's interesting. Meaning I want to look at it. The first step is getting people to look at your art. You need to think about this some more. Don't just go slashing away at it with your paints trying to make it look better or make sense. Give it room to breathe, think about what you're trying to say. Maybe the message is already there."

"I know, you're right. Let's talk about something else." Lizzie took the painting off the easel. "The opening is on Thursday. Dress to impress."

"I always do."

"Unfortunately, my dad's friend just arrived today and is staying with us and I think he'll be coming as well."

"You don't like him?"

"Not really. He's greasy and bordering on lecherous. If he wasn't so gross he'd be very amusing. As it is he has no value whatsoever."

"Well, I'm sorry he isn't of any use. Although considering you've only just met him perhaps you should only hold him in the mildest of contempt."

"I don't plan on holding him at all."

Rita laughed. "Just as well. I've got to get back to work, Lizzie, but you're welcome to stay if you like."

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'll just set up over there if you don't mind and try to get some work done."

"Sure. Feel free to use anything you need."

"Thanks, Rita." Lizzie moved to a well lit corner and began to work. Rita's comments on her painting, while useful, were not exactly reassuring. Every time Lizzie thought she had found her voice she would paint something crazy like she had done at Charlie's. It would begin like every other painting and then halfway into it she would look at her canvas and not recognize anything.

As she began a sketch she thought about Mrs. Long' party. Bringing Benjamin there wouldn't be enjoyable. His visit was poor timing. Lizzie was feeling claustrophobic after staying away from home for so long and now to have an unwanted guest! She felt tired.

After she had done several promising sketches she found herself wanting to get some fresh air. She packed up her things and left the museum. It was an overcast afternoon and Lizzie's hair kept blowing about in the wind. Once she was out of the building she found two missed calls from Carter on her cell phone. She pressed the dial button.

"Hey Carter. What's up?"

"Liz! I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat."

"Yeah! I didn't know you were going to be in the city today."

"Well, I wasn't until your dad mentioned that some relative was in town staying with you."

"Yeah, Benjamin Collins."

"…And?"

"He's a fool, Carter. And you know he is; that's why you're in town, isn't it? You want to have dinner with us so you can meet him."

"Ah, Lizzie, your powers of deduction are truly astounding."

"Fine, Carter, but if you want to stay for dinner then you are going to buy me coffee and a croissant. Possibly two."

"Two coffees or two croissants?"

"Maybe both."

"Sounds good. Same place?"

"Yeah, I just left the museum. I'll meet you there."

* * *

Carter ended up buying Lizzie a coffee and two croissants.

"Are you coming to Mrs. Long's?" Lizzie asked.

Yeah I plan on it. How was Rita?" added Carter, carefully sipping his hot coffee as they searched for a table.

"She was fine. She's going to the opening. It should be a great party. Hey, do you have a date to the opening?"

Carter grinned. "Yes I do!"

"What!"

"Don't act so surprised, Lizzie, it hurts my feelings. I wouldn't go with you even if I didn't have a date."

"Oh, now whose feelings are hurt? Why not?"

Carter and Lizzie found a table and sat down. "Because I've done it before and it's boring. Most people at gallery openings like to balance their time between looking at the art and mingling with the people. You and I like to do neither."

"Your point?"

"I like to ogle the ladies, eat the food and partake of the open bar. You like to walk around in a sort of half-daze and ignore everyone else within a fifty mile radius of whatever painting you happen to be standing in front of. In your case, it's better for you to be alone. In my case, it's better if I have a date who is at once hot and vapid."

"I'm not hot?"

"Lizzie, you are mesmerizing, but unfortunately, being in your company requires a presence of mind I don't normally have when there is an open bar around."

"But now I'm going to have to go stag!" Lizzie whined.

"Take my advice and don't bring a date. That's not the kind of torture that one wants to inflict on someone one hardly knows."

"I don't inflict torture on anyone! Unless they deserve it. And you deserve it for abandoning me in my time of need."

"Maybe," he grinned.

They sat for a moment in silence. Lizzie observed that it was calming to be with Carter, even when they didn't speak. Unlike when she was with Darcy. He made every silent moment last a lifetime. With Carter there was companionable silence. There were many differences between Carter and Darcy. Their height was the only quality they shared. Carter was outgoing and friendly, Darcy was sour and taciturn. Carter was thin with blond hair while Darcy was more…buff? Lizzie shook her head. Why was she comparing Carter and Darcy?

Carter had downed his coffee and grabbed some of Lizzie's croissant. "So talk to me about Benjamin."

"There isn't much to say. He isn't repulsive."

"Sterling praise."

"Well, I only talked to him for grand total of five minutes." She shrugged and reluctantly said, "he may have a redeeming quality or two that I missed."

"Such as?" Carter raised his eyebrows.

"I think he bathes."

"That is a very redeeming quality when there are none others to be had."

* * *

Lizzie was getting ready for Mrs. Long party when Carly knocked on her door.

"Come in!"

"Lizzie, I was wondering what you thought of—you look pretty."

Lizzie smiled. "Thanks, Carly, you don't look bad yourself."

"Sometimes I wish I hadn't cut my hair so short. Then I'd still have the option of wearing it wavy like yours."

"I like your hair cut. It makes you look sophisticated. It's something I could never pull off, even if I wanted to."

Carly laughed. "You _don't_ want to."

"Pretty much." She turned away from her mirror to face Carly. "What's up?"

"I wanted to know what you think of Collins. He seems…"

"Dull?"

Carly frowned. "Well, I don't know. He keeps the conversation up well enough."

"When he's talking about his new house or his boss' widow. What was her name again?"

"Catherine Burg! Lizzie, you know she just inherited her husbands Fortune 500 company. She's a very successful businesswoman!"

"Good for her. I don't really care." Lizzie turned back to the mirror.

"Lizzie…"

"Carly, I can't help it if I'm not business oriented. It just doesn't interest me. Collins is harmless enough, even if he isn't as intellectually stimulating as I'd like. Anyway, what do you care what I think of him?"

Carly grinned mischievously. "Well, he seems to be paying an awful lot of attention to you."

Lizzie's mouth hung open as Carly started to laugh. "Get out."

"Lizzie, what a shame you thought so little of him!"

"Ha ha ha. No way, if he likes any of us it's Jane. Or you. You've been the only one around when he's wanted to go sightseeing."

"Well, he's not after Jane. I told him about Charlie. And, yes, I _was_ the only one around when he wanted to go sightseeing. Whose fault was that?"

Lizzie bit her lip. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, never mind. You almost ready for Mrs. Long's?"

"Nearly. Five more minutes."

"You know Lydia's bringing Tom and his new lacrosse friends?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I hope not too many. Mrs. Long's house isn't very big."

"Keep your fingers crossed," Carly said as she walked out the door.

* * *

Mrs. Long lived two bus stops away from Lizzie in a decent sized apartment with her husband. They had no children so every now and then Mrs. Long liked to throw parties where her employees and their friends could keep her in touch with her younger self. All the furniture in her apartment was from the 1970's and there were doilies everywhere. All these parties didn't manage to convince Mrs. Long that the peachy-orange color scheme went out of style long before the millennium ended.

"Lizzie, my dear, I'm glad you could come! And Jane, my dear, you look lovely as always. Carly, who is this?"

Carly nudged Benjamin towards Mrs. Long. "This is Benjamin Collins. He is a friend of my uncle. And he's staying in the city with us for a few days."

Mrs. Long heartily shook Benjamin's hand. "How wonderful to meet you!"

Benjamin smiled without showing his teeth. "Likewise. I hear you run a travel agency. My employer, Mrs. Catherine Burg, I'm sure owns several travel agencies. She doesn't run them herself, you see. I am sure she delegates the responsibility to others among her staff. What a charming house you have."

Carly scooted Benjamin further into the house as Mrs. Long's gaze followed him, speechless. She looked at Lizzie, who just shrugged.

"I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Long. Lydia is on her way now with some new friends. I don't know how many there are. I know you have limited space."

Mrs. Long patted Lizzie's hand. "Oh never mind about that. I love guests!"

After everyone had gotten their drinks and the music had started, Lydia burst into the room with four young men following her, one of them was Carter.

"Lizzie, there you are. Thank god. I didn't know how much more of Lydia and her thrilling athletes I could take." Carter ran his hand through his hair and, catching sight of Lizzie, stared.

"What?" she asked, folding her arms self-consciously.

"You look really nice tonight."

She smiled. "Why, thank you."

Carter nodded.

"Lizzie! Come meet my friends!" Lydia pulled her three boy toys towards Lizzie. "This is Tom and his roommate Sanders."

Lizzie shook their hands. "Thank you so much for letting Lydia and Carly stay at your place while our apartment was getting fixed."

Tom, looking down at her from his great height, grinned. "No problem. It was fun having them over. Gave the apartment a well-needed feminine touch. I had no idea the tub was actually white."

He and his friends laughed while Lizzie tried to hide her disgust with a smile. "Hmm, she said. Tom, Sanders and Lydia walked off in the direction of the buffet, leaving Lizzie and Carter with the last of Lydia's friends.

The man was taller than Carter, but not as tall as the two behemoths standing on either side of Lydia. His dark hair was long and pulled back into a fetching sort of ponytail. He was the best dressed of his friends, in Dockers and a colored shirt. He gave Lizzie a lop-sided grin and stuck his hand out to shake Lizzie's.

"Hi, I'm Greg Wickham. I'm staying with Tom and Sanders as part of the lacrosse clinic. You must be Lydia's sister."

"Lizzie. And this is my friend Carter."

Carter shook his hand. "I'm starving, Liz, I'm going to get some food. Nice meeting you, Greg."

Lizzie turned to him with a questioning look in her eye. "Ok, she said. He gave her the barest hint of a wink and left her with Greg.

"So, you play lacrosse, Greg?"

"I'm actually a player and a coach. Sanders is an old friend of mine and he was able to get me a place in the clinic. I'm very grateful to him."

"That was nice."

"Well, Sanders is very kind to his friends. I believe he let your sister and her friend stay in his apartment for a while."

"Yes, he did. I don't know what we would have done without him." They found a pair of armchairs in the living room and sat down.

"What happened?"

"Oh," Lizzie waved her hand. "Our apartment flooded and it had to be redone."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Wow, that's awful. Where did you stay?"

"We, me and my other sister Jane, stayed at her friend Charlie Bingley's apartment."

Greg looked surprised. "Charlie Bingley?"

"Yeah, do you know him?"

Greg shifted uncomfortably. "Not really. I know of him. I know a friend of his."

Lizzie was curious. "Who?"

"Um. William Darcy."

Now it was Lizzie's turn to be surprised. "Darcy! You know Darcy?"

"Do you know him too?"

"Yes, he was staying at Charlie's while we were there."

"You mean he's in town?" She thought she saw disdain cross his otherwise handsome face.

"Yes. Why? Do you not get along?" Lizzie was bursting with curiosity now.

"Well. Um. Do you know Darcy well?"

Lizzie laughed. "As well as I'd like to. We don't happen to get along very well."

Greg seemed to relax a little at this. "I can't say I'm surprised. I can see how it would be difficult for him to make friends."

"Why do you say that?"

"He is a very…proud man. He was a proud child. We've known each other since we were young."

"How do you know him?"

"His father was a great philanthropist," Greg slowly began. "A great man. My mother had been raising me on her own here in the city. She was having a lot of trouble keeping a job. She had been fighting addiction. The late Mr. Darcy had a charity shelter. He was making a visit once while we were there. He saw me and my mother, and I suppose he took a liking to us because he started to work with us personally. When my mother died a year later he took me into his home. He provided me with an education and a family; a kindness for which I could never begin to repay him. I began to think of him as family. I met with Darcy several times. We spent several summers together. He was never friendly to me; he pretty much ignored me during the time we spent together. After I graduated from high school Mr. Darcy and his charity helped me get into college and agreed to pay for all my expenses. I hadn't been so happy since before my mother died. I was going to have a chance to live the life my mother had imagined for me."

Greg took a deep breath, as if remembering something that hurt him. "The summer before what was to be my freshman year at college, Mr. Darcy had a stroke. I was heartbroken. He was the only father figure I had known. He was left incapacitated and Will Darcy, who had a year more of college, was left in charge of everything. I assumed that I was only a mere annoyance to Darcy, but it appeared that his dislike of me was more deeply rooted than that. Mr. Darcy managed to survive through my first month of college and then passed away. When I went home for the funeral, Darcy informed me that he would no longer be paying for my tuition. I tried to apply for financial aid, but I was denied. I still think that Darcy may have spoken with the college administration about me, but I have no proof. I had no other option but to drop out of school." Greg sighed heavily. "I learned a few years ago that Darcy's parents got divorced soon after my mother and I visited his house for the first time. I think he believed we were the cause and he blamed me for it. I don't for a minute think that Mr. Darcy would betray his wife, but that may explain Darcy's hatred of me."

Lizzie's mouth was hanging open in utter disbelief and she shook her head. She couldn't fathom how anyone could be so cruel to another person. She was speechless. "I…I'm so sorry, Greg. I don't know what to say."

He smiled at her. "Oh, no worries. As you can see, things aren't so bad. Actually, I have plenty to be thankful for. I have a job and good friends. I've been invited to a party" – Lizzie laughed – "I'm doing very well."

"But to have such an opportunity unfairly snatched away from you! How can you be so calm?"

"The life I'm living now is better than what it would have been if Mr. Darcy had never cared at all. I probably would not have graduated from high school. Plus, I've had six years for it to sink in. I won't pretend I wasn't angry at first, but it's not worth it to stay angry forever."

Lizzie was very impressed with Greg. He seemed so sensible and mature. He knew what it was like to struggle for what you wanted. Not to mention he was very handsome.

"Lizzie!" Lydia stumbled into the room with Tom. "Why are you keeping Greg all to yourself? I met him first, you know. C'mon Greg! We need another player for Cranium!" Lydia grabbed Tom's hand and pulled him back into the kitchen.

Greg rose. "It appears I'm needed." He smiled.

Lizzie laughed. "Yes, Lydia is very determined. I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Yes," Greg turned to leave, but before he did, "Lizzie? Do you, uh, want to go out sometime?"

Lizzie grinned. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Can I have your number?"

Lizzie pulled out a pen and wrote it on a napkin. Kind of cliché, she thought, but she didn't much care. She hadn't been on a date in over a month.

After sitting a while by herself in the front room, still reeling over the new information about Darcy, Carter found her.

"Liz."

She started. "Oh, Carter. You want to go?"

"I guess. Do you?"

They grabbed their coats and said goodbye to Mrs. Long.

Once outside, Carter asked, "You get a number, then?"

"Haha! Nope!"

"No?" Carter groaned. "Lizzie! You haven't been on a date in forever, you looked hot and he was totally into you! What happened?"

"He asked for mine."

"Oh. Well, then. Jolly good, you harlot."


	6. Chapter Six

AN: I am the worst updater in the world. But, I did go back through the other chapters and edit them (changed a few minor things). And here is the new chapter!

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

"So things are going well for you and Greg then?" Carter asked as he chewed on a straw.

Lizzie and Carter had been lounging around the gallery ever since Luke had called to tell them he wasn't coming back that day and they could stop working.

"Yeah. It's been great. He's very handsome." Lizzie smiled to herself. "Sexy," she added.

Carter raised an eyebrow at her. "Sexy, huh? I'm trying to remember the last time you went out with someone sexy."

Lizzie laughed. "Um. That would be never. Sweet or funny or talented. But never sexy."

"Hang on," said Carter sitting up. "I'm trying to remember the last time you went out with someone."

Lizzie glared at him then shrugged. "Can I help it if all the men I've met so far are either boring or idiots?"

"Or not interested," Carter pointed out helpfully.

"Hey, if they aren't interested, I'm not interested."

"That's convenient. So, what? Is Greg not sweet or funny or talented? "

Lizzie thought a moment. "No, not really," she said, sounding surprised. "Well, he's more charming than sweet or funny. And he may be talented, but I don't know at what. Lacrosse, I assume."

"You assume?" Carter laughed. "Liz, you've been out with this guy three times! Don't you know anything about him?"

Lizzie sat straight up. "Oh! I can't believe I haven't told you this before! Guess what? Greg and Darcy have known each other since they were kids."

Lizzie told a rapt Cater all about Greg's childhood and what Darcy had done to him.

"Can you believe it?" she said heatedly. "That jerk took away his college education! I was holding out hope that Darcy wasn't a complete asshole but now it seems that the only thing he has going for him is that Charlie is his friend. Which, come to think of it, doesn't reflect too well on Charlie."

"You were holding out hope for Darcy?"

"Shut up."

Carter shrugged. "Well, you didn't go to college either, Lizzie, and you're doing fine."

"That's different," she snapped. "Greg wanted to go and now he can't."

"Well, if he's as good a lacrosse player as you _assume_ he is then he should be able to get a scholarship somewhere."

Lizzie's phone beeped. She looked at it and groaned. "Benjamin texted me. I told him I'd show him around the gallery."

"Why in God's name did you do that?"

"Apparently he's leaving the day before the opening and he was so disappointed that he couldn't be there he asked if I would give him a tour before he left so he could see it."

"Aww," Carter pinched Lizzie's cheek.

"Get away," she laughed as she tried to swat him. "I'm just glad he's not coming to the opening. It's going to be hard enough with my parents there. Besides, I think he still has a crush on Jane and I'm trying to give her a break."

Carter stood up. "How noble of you. Well, I'm going to go so I don't catch him. I told Karen I'd stop by on my way back to the garage."

Lizzie walked him to the door. "Karen, huh? How's that going?"

Carter grinned at her. "Lovely! She's sweet and funny…and, oh boy is she talented." He pretended to swoon.

"Gross!" laughed Lizzie. "Wow. Look at us! We have romantic lives!"

"Don't jinx it!" He whispered fiercely. "Ok, I'm gonna go before Numbnuts McGee gets here." Carter slung his jacket over his shoulder and sped out the door.

"Bye!"

Lizzie flopped back down on the couch to wait for Benjamin. While he hadn't been as slimy as she had first suspected, he was very awkward. Pompously awkward, if that were possible. She laughed to herself. He really was quite funny—as long as you kept him at a distance. She imagined that if he wasn't staying with them she would find him hilarious.

Benjamin had been good for one thing. Since he'd arrived Lizzie had been calling her father once a day to report on Collins and they spent a long time laughing about him on the phone.

"Seriously, Dad, it's a shame you aren't here," Lizzie told him one night. "He hasn't been able to stop talking about this one house he and his boss have been trying to fix up. Apparently, he is the new personal assistant to some old bat who is redecorating her office building. He went on for a half hour about an $8,000 fireplace she bought for it. Why an office building needs a fireplace, I have no idea. I thought Lydia was going to hit him over the head with her plate."

"It sounds like he's turned out as wonderful as I'd hoped. I wish there were time for him to come stay over here with me so I could witness it up close."

"Don't say that, Dad, it almost happened. Don't think I didn't try to pawn him off on you. But I don't think the apartment over the garage is glamorous enough for him. He prefers the city, unfortunately. It's too bad you'll miss him. He leaves before the opening at the gallery."

Lizzie hesitated before proceeding. This was a touchy subject. "So you and mom are both going to be there, right? I didn't hear wrong?"

Lizzie heard her father pause. "No, you didn't hear wrong."

"Well, what's going on? How's that going to work?"

Mr. Bennet heaved a sigh. "Nothing's going on, kiddo. We just both wanted to be there and we were both invited. Luke invited me because he knows I really admire this artist and, well… your mother is his sister so I assume that she's been invited as well."

Lizzie was still confused. "But I still don't understand. Why do you have to be there at the same time? You should know, Jane is bringing a special friend and I've invited one of my favorite teachers whom I really respect. If you and Mom can't hold it together—"

"Excuse me?" Lizzie's dad interrupted roughly. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Do I embarrass you?"

"No, Dad. You don't embarrass me."

"Why should I not go to the opening of an exhibit I've been invited to because my ex-wife wants to go and troll for a rich new husband?"

Lizzie was silent. She'd learnt the hard way not to interrupt when one of her parents was railing on the other.

"Listen, Lizzie. I know people who are important to you and Jane will be there. I'd like to meet them. I'll avoid your mother—what happened last time won't happen again, I promise."

"You can't promise that, Dad. You know you can't."

"Elizabeth, I'll do my damnedest."

Lizzie resigned herself. "I know. I'm sorry. And I am glad you're coming. It's been too long since you've visited me in the city. "

* * *

Lizzie jumped as she felt someone sit next to her on the couch.

"Oh, Benjamin. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"Elizabeth," he began with a furrowed brow. "Please forgive me for my tardiness. I was waiting for Jane to return home safely. She was out with a man and I thought it would be better if someone were waiting for her."

Lizzie stood and looked at him. "Jane's a big girl, you don't have to do that for her. Besides, Charlie is a gentleman."

Benjamin stood to face her, aghast. "I'm surprised that you can be so nonchalant about your own sister. I'd like to think that my siblings would care more for my well-being, had I been lucky enough to have any." He smarmily brushed invisible lint off his shirt.

Lizzie gave him a funny look and waited for him to say he was joking. She should have known better. How the hell was she going to get this loser to back off of her sister? Smiling slightly, she said, "Well, they're nearly engaged anyway, so I prefer not to interfere in case I accidentally ruin the moment." She gave him a meaningful look

Eventually she saw the realization dawn on him. He scratched his chin which was sporting some random hairs Lizzie took as Benjamin's version of a goatee. "Oh, I see," he said thoughtfully. He looked Lizzie up and down trying, she supposed, to see if she was telling the truth. He showed his gums as he smiled at her. "Well, would you mind showing me your exquisite gallery?"

Elizabeth showed him around, but was on autopilot. Talking about Jane had got her thinking. In truth, she wasn't sure how close Jane and Charlie were. They'd been spending quite a bit of time together, that was certain. And usually Jane and Lizzie held nothing back about the men they were dating, but Jane had been unusually silent about Charlie. Why? Lizzie hadn't been guarded about her time with Greg. Why wasn't Jane talking about her new…boyfriend? Was he a boyfriend? Lizzie was startled to find that she didn't know. Maybe she'd been so wrapped up in the gallery opening and Greg to pay attention.

She led Benjamin around the older part of the gallery—the part that hadn't been refurbished for the opening—as she explained everything with a thoroughness she usually reserved for art students or connoisseurs. Since she had to withstand an $8000 fireplace lecture, she decided that Benjamin had it coming.

Eventually, Benjamin decided that he'd had enough. After five minutes of assuring him that she still had work to do at the gallery (which was true) and that Uncle Luke would be there to see her home safely (which was entirely untrue), he left a bit angry with her, she thought, for not letting him be of use.

The only work she really had to do was clean up the office and make sure Luke's phone messages were left where he could find them—taped to his computer screen.

Lizzie grabbed her things and locked the gallery as she left. The sun was setting and the wind was blowing her hair all over the place. Thinking of Jane she began to hurry towards the bus stop when she heard someone yelling her name. Turning around, the wind blew her hair into her face and when she finally got it out of the way she was staring into Darcy's dark brown eyes.

* * *

From a mutual desire of being near Lizzie and being far away from Caroline Darcy actually raised his voice to get someone's attention. He saw Caroline's gaping expression out of the corner of his eye and, ignoring it, collected himself before walking briskly over to where Lizzie was standing stock still.

He suddenly felt an urge to run in the opposite direction before he said anything humiliating. He opened his mouth.

"Is-is the gallery closed?" Did he just stutter? "I was hoping to see it. Caroline, too," he added, trying to remember his manners.

Lizzie looked over his shoulder to where Caroline was picking her nails.

The sun was setting behind Darcy and it shone on Lizzie's face and hair and in her eyes. But she didn't squint. They were now a light blue as she looked up at him.

"It is closed. I'd show you around but I kinda have to get home now." She shifted her weight and adjusted her bag. It looked heavy. "Sorry," she added, and he realized that he'd just been staring at her.

"Oh, it's okay. Another time. Let's all get a cab home."

Caroline had kept the cab they arrived in waiting and was looking at Darcy expectantly. Lizzie turned and started to point down the street. "But the bus—it's really no big deal—"

"Not at all, we have a cab ready to go," Darcy gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile and held his hand out to take her bag. She looked at him skeptically—because he was trying to take her bag?—before hefting her bag onto his outstretched hand. His arm sank under the weight of it as she said "thanks" and made her way to the cab.

"What's in here anyway?" he asked as he got into the cab after Caroline.

Lizzie shrugged. "A canvas or two, paints, an easel, brushes, my sketchbook, pencils, some files from the gallery. Just the usual stuff."

Darcy passed the bag across Caroline's lap (who grimaced when it came near her) to Lizzie.

"How long does it take you to finish a painting?" He wanted her to keep talking about herself. He was insanely curious.

Lizzie looked out the window of the cab. "It really depends. On my mood mostly."

"Do you paint better when you're happy or when you're sad?"

Lizzie quickly turned to look at him. Had he gone too far? Too personal, perhaps?

"It's not really like that." She looked out the window again. "I think—I think it depends on how strong the feelings are, rather than their particular nature."

Darcy was taken aback at her frankness. He hadn't expected something so intimate from her. Although it made sense. She was talking about her artwork here. He gulped and decided to see what else he could get from her today.

"How fast did you finish the one you were working on at Charlie's?"

This time Lizzie paused long enough for Caroline to interrupt them, damn her.

"Lizzie, my dear, have you ever been to the ballet?"

What? What the hell was she going on about?

"Um, no." Lizzie looked at Caroline and Darcy thought she seemed relieved at the change of subject.

"Darcy and I _love_ the ballet. We were at Lincoln Center just last night to see a world premiere. I was telling Darcy how I think that ballet is the most perfect form of art there is. Bodies in motion, you know. Don't you agree Darcy?"

He wanted to throw Caroline out of the cab. "Dance is a wonderful art form," he managed to grumble.

Caroline took this as a shining endorsement to go on about the ballet until they arrived outside Lizzie's apartment building.

"Well, this is me," she said, quickly grabbing her bag and throwing a few bills at the cabbie as she swung out the door.

Darcy started. "No, Lizzie, I was going to take care—"

"Don't worry about it guys!" she said happily

Darcy climbed over Caroline to get out of the car after her. "Wait—"

"Hey, Lizzie, I was waiting for you!"

Darcy looked up to see Greg Wickham striding towards Lizzie from the entrance of her apartment building and Lizzie, rooted to the spot, looking quickly between Greg and himself.

* * *

Lizzie didn't want a scene. She didn't want a scene. No! She was feeling so out of it after the revealing conversation in the car. She already felt emotionally slutty and she basically wanted to high tail it into her apartment and let the boys be boys out on the street.

She saw Greg catch sight of Darcy and stop in his tracks, the genial smile wiped from his face. He looked grim. Darcy looked like a stone statue: completely expressionless and either unable or unwilling to move.

Greg took a step towards her, still looking at Darcy. "I'd heard you were in town," he said calmly. And Lizzie was proud of him for standing up to Darcy.

"I wonder then why you didn't pack up and leave immediately."

Greg dropped his head and Lizzie threw a scathing look Darcy's way. Seeing her, Darcy got back into the cab and it pealed away so fast that Lizzie swore she could smell burning rubber.

Greg watched as the car turned a corner and disappeared. He shook his head. "Well, that's over. I knew I'd see him eventually. At least now I'm not waiting for the bomb to drop."

Lizzie took a step towards him, her head swimming with emotions. "Greg, I'm so sorry. He offered me a ride home and wouldn't take no for an answer. I would never have let him if I knew you were here."

He smiled down at her and took a strand of hair in his hand. "You couldn't have known."

"Why were you here, anyway?"

He looked like he was trying hard to remember. "Ummm. Oh yeah." He bent his head down and kissed her.

* * *

Ewww! I know, but I couldn't resist! Heh heh heh. Next chapter is the Netherfield Ball, oops! I mean the gallery opening. (I've been waiting ages to get to that part.) 


	7. Chapter Seven

AN: Wow, this story is going in weird places. Just an FYI: When I re-edited the previous chapters I combined chapters 5 and 6. So the new chapter 6 is a new one. Make sure you didn't skip it! And, sorry, but I ended up writing more than I thought I would and the gallery opening isn't in this chapter. But it'll be in the next one I PROMISE and that chapter will be out in the next few days. It's already written, just needs editing. Also, I've decided to stop the charade and start calling her Jane, because I really can't stand the name Jean. It reminds me of Jean Grey and I don't like her. I know it's inconsistent and sloppy, but I hope you'll forgive me and relish in the fact that her name is once and for all "Jane."

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

Lizzie's cocktail dress swung around her calves. She had picked out the slinky green dress at one of the street vendors on the way back from the gallery the day before. It was perfect, just calling to her as she walked past. It was a little more expensive than she would have liked to pay for something she bought on the street, but it fit her like a glove and was too perfect to pass up. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her dark hair was curly tonight and messily pulled away from her face. The dress made her eyes look green. She felt like a million dollars. Tonight was an occasion that called for looking as fabulous as possible. Not because Greg would be there (he wasn't coming) but because Lizzie needed all the confidence she could muster to deal with the people who _were_ coming.

Not only were both her parents going to be there (they would surely cause a scene Lizzie had resigned herself to that fact), but now Benjamin had decided to come as well. He apparently was so enchanted with the gallery that he felt he couldn't pass up the opportunity to go to the opening. The stout little man had officially worn out his welcome.

Lizzie took a deep breath. Usually Jane would have been there to run interference or keep her from losing her temper, but she would be with Charlie most of the night. After finding out that the Bingleys and Darcy were invited, Greg had decided not to go.

"Don't let Darcy scare you off, Greg," Lizzie had argued that afternoon. "I want you to come and you're welcome there no matter who else is invited."

Greg laughed. "I don't think I'm up for Darcy _and _meeting your parents for the first time. Plus, Benjamin will be there and he seems to hate me, for some reason."

"Ok," Lizzie was more upset with him than she let on. But go out and do something. Don't just sit around by yourself, ok?"

He smirked. "What on earth made you think I was going to do that?"

Greg left, but not before kissing Lizzie. As opposed to the first time they kissed, this one seemed…perfunctory? Lizzie was wondering if maybe the tension of the moment had made her read too much into that kiss out on the street. Emotions were certainly running high at that time. She mentally shook herself.

Lydia popped her head in the door as she knocked. "Hey, Lizzie. Wow, great dress!"

Lizzie smiled at her little sister through the mirror. "Thanks! You look pretty too. Are you and Carly nearly ready?"

Lydia looked distracted. "Yeah. Hey, listen. I—I wanted to warn you."

"What?" Lizzie spun round in her chair to face Lydia. "Warn me about what?"

She hesitated. "Well…I saw Benjamin come home yesterday with a bag. From Tiffany's."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "So…?"

"I, um, I opened it."

"Lydia!" Lizzie stood up.

"It was a bag from Tiffany's!" Lydia threw up her hands. "What did you expect me to do?"

Shaking her head, Lizzie snapped, "Oh, I don't know. How about not go through other people's things?"

"Whatever," Lydia shook her head. "Just listen, ok? You'll thank me in a minute. I opened the bag. And inside the bag was… a box."

"Your point better be making an appearance very soon."

"And inside the box was…a diamond ring."

Lizzie was silent.

"You know, like an engagement ring."

"I get it, Lydia, I swear."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Lizzie, I'm serious. It was an engagement ring. An ugly one, too. I didn't think you could get an ugly ring from Tiffany's, but if anyone could prove me wrong, it would have to be Benjamin."

Lizzie sank back into her chair, trying to process what Lydia had just said.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "He's going to propose to Jane!"

Lydia gave her sister a strange look, then took her hand. "No, Lizzie."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not going to ask Jane. You of all people should know how many hints have been dropped about Jane already being taken."

"Well, who then?" Lizzie demanded.

Lydia looked blankly at her. "Are you kidding? You."

Lizzie didn't laugh. She guffawed. She was laughing so hard she was nearly in tears.

"I'm not joking around! I'm sure it's you!" Lydia stomped her foot.

"You can't possibly be right!" Lizzie managed to get out between laughs. "Benjamin and I can't stand each other!"

"Maybe so, but that won't stop Benjamin from asking you to marry him. There are the initials E.C. on the ring."

Lizzie stopped laughing. "E.C."

"Yes. For Elizabeth Collins. See who's laughing now?" With a self-satisfied smirk, Lydia swept out of the room leaving a stunned Lizzie to herself.

No way. Not even Benjamin could be foolish enough to think she would say yes to him. Now that she thought of it, though, he had been extra chatty lately. The gallery tour, insisting on accompanying her wherever she went…

"Shit!" Lizzie yelled. She ran to Jane's door.

"Um. Who is it?" Jane called after Lizzie knocked furiously. Bursting into Jane bedroom she saw her older sister, looking radiant, of course, printing something off her laptop.

"What are you doing? Not school work!"

"No…" Jane blushed.

"What is it?" Lizzie asked, curiously.

"Nothing. Just an email from Charlie," she said evasively.

"That you're printing?" Lizzie nodded towards Jane's printer as it shot the completed paper out.

Jane blushed again. "Yeah, so what?"

Lizzie laughed and flopped down on Jane's bed. "You don't have to go on the defensive with me. What are you printing out? Directions to his chalet in Aspen?" she teased.

"It's nothing. Just…well, if you got a love letter from someone you cared about wouldn't you want to be able to hold it in your hand?"

Lizzie was stunned. She hadn't for a moment suspected it was a love letter.

"Charlie's in love with you?"

Jane nodded shyly.

"He said the words?"

"Yes."

"Jane, oh my god! That's wonderful!" Lizzie spurted out. Of course, she was very happy for her sister. So why was she feeling like she'd just misplaced something?

"Do you love him too?"

Jane looked at her silently. Lizzie waited for an answer until she thought she realized what was happening.

"Oh, um. You don't have to tell me. Sorry. That was personal."

Jane tried to backtrack. "It's just that—I just got the letter and I'm not sure how I'm feeling still. I will tell you though. When I know."

Lizzie nodded, understandingly, she hoped. "You don't want to talk about it?"

Jane shook her head.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Finish getting ready for the gallery, I suppose."

Lizzie drew up sharply. She knew her sister didn't mean to dismiss her so curtly, but that's how it felt.

"Oh. Ok." Then, plastering the smile back on her face, "I'm gonna go finish as well."

"Lizzie, was there something you wanted?"

"Huh?"

"You knocked. Did you want something?"

"Oh. Yeah," Lizzie racked her brain for something she could need from Jane. "Uh, your brown eye liner."

"In my drawer in the bathroom."

"Thanks."

* * *

The whole cab ride to the gallery was kind of a blur. Lizzie's mind kept jumping between whether Benjamin would propose and Jane shutting her out. The night officially sucked and Lizzie hadn't even seen her mother yet. Lizzie couldn't figure out why Jane suddenly felt the need to keep things close to the vest. But then she realized that it wasn't really sudden at all. It was dawning on her that their late night talks had become less and less frequent. It had been happening so slowly that she hadn't really noticed. Jane was becoming more and more involved in her work at school and Lizzie was becoming more involved in…what, exactly?

She jerked back to the present as the cab lurched over a pothole, or possibly a dead body. She wasn't going to think about it tonight. She wouldn't let it bother her. Tonight she was going to look at beautiful artwork and sip champagne.


	8. Chapter Eight

AN: By the way, it wasn't actually a dead body the cab rolled over in the last chapter! That was Lizzie being her sarcastic self. This isn't going to turn into some Jane Austen mystery. There's only so much I can handle! And now we're on to….

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

Lizzie jumped out of the cab before it had come to a complete stop and ran straight for the door. Searching the sizable crowd that had already gathered in the gallery, she found Carter standing in a corner talking to who she assumed must be Karen.

She cut her way through the crowd and past the bar. She eyed the bartender. Oh, you and I will be good friends by the time this night is over, she thought.

Everyone was dressed to the nines—Luke always threw fancy parties and Lizzie never really felt like she fit in with the kind of people who could afford Pedro Siestra's work. Well, there was no chance of being sophisticated tonight, she thought. There were too many people she had to dodge. She wouldn't be surprised if she ended up ducking underneath one of the tables tonight.

She reached Carter and tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Lizzie! Meet Karen. Karen, this is my good friend Lizzie."

Lizzie shook Karen's hand. Carter gave her a grin and a barely-there wink.

"It's so great to meet you Karen. Carter's been talking non-stop about you." Which wasn't really true, but Lizzie thought she'd help Carter out a bit tonight in hopes that he might return the favor.

"Oh, really?" Karen laughed. "So much for playing it cool, huh Carter?"

He smoothly adjusted his tie. "This is all part of my master plan."

Lizzie laughed along with Karen. It might have been funny. If there weren't pressing matters to discuss.

"Karen, I'm so sorry, but do you mind if I borrow Carter for a second? It's kind of an emergency."

Karen nodded. "Sure. I'm just gonna get myself a drink."

Carter frowned as Karen walked away. "What's the deal?"

"I like her. She's nice."

"Yeah, I know," Carter said impatiently," and you're keeping me from her. You know I have enough problems keeping a date without you coming around here looking like that and then asking for private time."

"Aw. Thanks, Carter."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"It wasn't? Then I have to say that your insults suck."

"Lizzie, you're killing me."

"You think you've got it bad? Benjamin is wandering around with a ring in his pocket!" she whispered furiously.

Carter looked confused. "What, like _the_ ring? Because he does kind of look like Frodo…"

Lizzie hit his arm. "Stop joking around, this is serious! It's an engagement ring!"

Carter's mouth dropped open.

"Well? Say something!" Lizzie flushed. This was more embarrassing than she had originally thought.

"I don't know whether to laugh or vomit," Carter said.

Lizzie saw Benjamin out of the corner of her eye. Quickly, she grabbed Carter and spun him around so that he was between her and the hobbit.

"What is he behind me?"

"Don't look!"

Carter gave her a helpless look. "Well, what do you want me to do, Lizzie? I can't stand guard over you. I brought Karen and I'm not going to leave her. Besides, what makes you think he'll propose in front of all these people?"

"This is the same guy who thought it would be a good idea to propose to me in the first place."

"Good point."

Lizzie could feel hope slipping through her fingers. "I can't even believe that this is happening. It seems completely outside the realm of possibility."

"It's not entirely out of the blue here. He has been overly interested in you."

Lizzie looked up at Carter in disbelief. "I hadn't noticed."

He laughed. "Well, you don't tend to be the most observant person in the world."

"What do you mean?"

"Lizzie, if you're not painting it, you don't tend to pay too close attention."

Lizzie was speechless. Carter thought that? "Really?" she asked.

"Lizzie, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he apologized. "It's just, you know. Some things escape your attention. But it's not a big deal. Besides, you had no reason to be paying special attention to Benjamin anyways."

Lizzie nodded, still lost in her thoughts. Was this why she hadn't noticed her and Jane growing apart? Or when Carly fell in love with her ex-fiancé?

Carter stuffed his hands in pockets. "Look, I know tonight isn't easy for you to begin with. I'll do what I can about Benjamin, ok?"

Lizzie nodded again. "Thank you. You should go back to Karen now. I'm gonna go…hide in Luke's office for a bit, I think. Good luck."

"You too." Carter winked at her again and made his way back to Karen.

Lizzie quickly made her way past the bar, grabbing a glass of wine as she went. She reached the door and, spinning around to make sure no one saw her, backed into the room. Once in the cool dark room she rested her head against the door.

"Something wrong?"

She turned with a gasp.

"Oh. Lizzie."

"Darcy."

He was seated behind the desk with his cell phone in hand.

"What are you doing here in the dark?"

He stood up and shrugged. "Luke—your uncle—said I could use his office to make a phone call."

"In the dark?"

He shrugged again. Lizzie grumpily stomped over to the chair in front of her uncle's desk and threw herself into it. "What, are you avoiding someone?" she snapped.

He sat down again. "Maybe. Are _you_ avoiding someone?"

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Maybe."

They sat for a few moments in silence and the longer he didn't speak, the angrier Lizzie got. Had she really reached a point where the best company of the evening was going to be Will Darcy?

Deciding that he'd be more uncomfortable if he were made to speak, she said, "It's your turn to say something, Darcy. You could mention something about the paintings or the artist. "

"Tell me what you want to hear and I'll be happy to talk about it."

"You didn't strike me as someone who pandered to his audience."

She saw Darcy's eyes narrow at her though the dark. "No." Then, after a moment, "Do you always find talking a necessity when you are alone with someone else?"

Lizzie glared at him. "Not always. I suppose you and I should arrange it so that we have as little as possible to say to one another."

"Is this for your benefit or mine?"

"Both. I mean, we are both unsociable and aloof. Neither of us will say anything unless we think it will amaze the whole room."

Darcy smiled. "I doubt that's a fitting description of you. Whether it is of me, I can't say. You seem to think so, anyway."

Lizzie shrugged.

They were silent again until he asked without looking at her," So do you always take a bus home from the gallery?"

She sat up in her chair. "Yes," and, unable to resist, added, "Thanks again for suggesting a cab ride home the other day. I would have missed Greg if I had taken the bus."

She saw Darcy's jaw tense. "Greg Wickham. You know each other, do you?"

"You might say that. We're friends," she goaded.

"Yes, well, it's easy enough for him to make friends, but somehow much harder for him to keep them."

Lizzie tried to keep her cool. "It's too bad his friendship with you was ruined. He'll be suffering from that all his life I think."

Darcy stood up so suddenly that Lizzie jumped. He flicked on the desk lamp as he started, "See here—"

"Lizzie, I—" Uncle Luke had entered his office and cut Darcy off. He looked at his niece and guest alone together and, catching Lizzie barely shake her head, decided not to comment.

Lizzie stood up.

"Um, your mom is here, Lizzie. She's talking to Jane and Charlie."

Lizzie left the room after Luke without a backward glance at Darcy.

"You know," her uncle continued as he led her toward her doom, "I really like this guy Charlie. He's great for Jane. I could definitely see them together. That is, if your mother doesn't over do it. Come help Jane."

Jane doesn't need help. I do! Lizzie thought. She could hear her mother's voice carrying over the rest of the chatter.

"Jane, dear, you look gorgeous! And that Charlie fellow is quite a catch! How long do you think he'll take to pop the question? Oh, no dear, it's never too early to start thinking about that! You don't want to wake up one day and realize you've been dating the same guy for seven years with no rock to show for it! You did say something about a penthouse right?"

"Hey, Mom. Mind keeping it down? I can hear you all the way from the other side of the room."

Lizzie's mother, a terrifying mix between Joan Rivers and Bo Derek, turned to face Lizzie and her mouth tightened as much as the Botox would allow.

"Elizabeth, my girl. Look at you." She paused, looking disapprovingly at Lizzie. "Where's your date? I've already met Jane's and Lydia's."

"Lydia's?" asked Lizzie.

"Yes, strapping young man named Tom. He rather reminds me of your father, but with a little more ambition. Not that I'm worried. Lydia has ambition enough for the both of them. If only Lydia could hold onto her men."

Lizzie snorted. "Right, like you're the expert on that."

Her mother was distracted by something over Lizzie's shoulder.

"Is that your date?" She pointed.

Turning around, Lizzie saw her finger was directed towards Darcy, who must have followed her from the office to where Jane and Charlie were standing.

"No, Mom. That's Charlie's friend."

"Hi!" Lizzie's mother became instantly friendly and stuck her hand out to Darcy. "I'm Jane's and Elizabeth's mother."

Darcy looked like a deer in the headlights and Lizzie tried to stifle a laugh as he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he grumbled.

"Are you from England?" Lizzie's mother simpered.

Ok, thought Lizzie, this was getting a little out of hand. "No, Mom, Darcy's from Scotland."

Suddenly, Lizzie felt a hot breath on her neck and she jumped.

"Why, Elizabeth, there you are. I've been looking for you," Benjamin breathed.

"Is this you date?" her mother smiled.

Taking a large and deliberate step away from Benjamin, she took a deep breath. "No! He is not. I didn't bring a date, Mother!" In her frustration, Lizzie forgot to keep her voice down. She blushed as a few curious bystanders looked her way.

"Fine, but I doubt you want to advertise that fact to the entire room."

Benjamin took a meek step towards her. "Elizabeth, I was wondering if—"

She didn't hear what he said because she was walking away as fast as possible towards the bar.

"Please tell me you have some more wine," she begged the bartender, once seeing the empty bottles on the table.

"I can open a new one for you, miss."

"Please do." Lizzie sagged against a nearby pillar. What next?

"Hey, honey."

Lizzie spun around. "Dad!" she cried and flew into his open arms. His beard was less scruffy than she was used to seeing, but she supposed he had spruced up for the occasion.

"Good to see you too, baby. How's it going so far?"

She rolled her eyes. "Eh. I'm kind of having a weird night."

"Is Carter here?"

She looked without finding him. "Yeah, he's around here somewhere. He brought a date."

"Karen, right? She's a good kid. And…" Mr. Bennett looked at his daughter from under his eyebrows.

"Oh. Mom's over there with Jane. Let's go over here. It's the bio of Pedro Siestra and a catalog of his work. I doubt she'll make her way over here.

Mr. Bennett followed Lizzie to a far corner. They stopped at a huge canvas.

"It really is beautiful stuff," he said softly. "Wish I could afford it."

"Me too," sighed Lizzie, glad that she was finally being able to enjoy the art at this opening.

"How's your work selling?"

Lizzie blushed. "Dad, you weren't supposed to know about that. Did Jane tell you?"

"Yes." He turned to face her. "You shouldn't be ashamed, honey. I think it's wonderful that you can make a living doing what you love to do."

"I'm not ashamed. And I wouldn't exactly call it a living."

"It's a start. Don't downplay your work. Your pieces are gorgeous. You should hear the compliments of that mural you did down at the garage. The customers love it."

Lizzie grinned at him. "Well, I'm glad I'm good for business."

"Lizzie, there you are!" a voice called. Lizzie automatically looked for a place to hide until she realized that it was Rita.

"I've been looking for you for 15 minutes!" Rita smiled.

"Hi! Sorry, I've been all over the place tonight. Rita, meet my Dad."

They shook hands. "Hello, Mr. Bennett. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Lizzie talks about you all the time."

Mr. Bennett smiled back. "She loves your class."

"I love having her there. She's very talented."

"I feel like I'm at a parent-teacher conference," Lizzie laughed.

"Elizabeth, there you are." Benjamin. She cringed.

"Uhh….Dad! This is Benjamin Collins." Her dad gave her a tiny smile as they shook hands. Benjamin immediately launched into a speech on how grateful he was to have been introduced to his daughters, blah, blah, blah. Lizzie's eyes sparkled mischievously as she waved good bye to her dad. Taking Rita's arm, they went back to the bar.

"Who was that?" Rita asked.

"I'll tell you later." Lizzie changed the subject. "So have you met Luke?"

Rita beamed. "Yes! He was waiting for me at the door! You told him I was coming? I didn't expect such a reception. You must have told him some lies about me because he thinks I'm some sort of famous art institution or something."

Lizzie laughed at her teacher. "You are, Rita. You're also giddy. I do believe this is the first time I've seen you with a crush."

Rita shook her head. "Nonsense, Lizzie. I refuse to let you become my matchmaker."

Reaching the bar, Lizzie realized that Darcy was there. She looked around quickly for another place to go. Benjamin was with her father by the exhibit and Caroline Bingley was between her and the office. Where was her mother?

"Lizzie, you ran off so fast I—" Mrs. Bennett stopped in front of them.

"Mom," Lizzie exhaled. "This is Rita Gardner. I take her class at the Met."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of you. You're one of the reasons my daughter decided not to pursue a secondary education."

"Mom!" Lizzie knew her mother could be unreasonable, but she hadn't seen her so rude in a long time. She must have had a few drinks in her.

"Well, it's true! No wonder you didn't have a date, Elizabeth! You spend all your time in that dungeon of a room and I'll bet there aren't more than three men in that class. And each of them gay or in some other way unsuitable for you."

Lizzie gulped. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of a gallery. This was not a conversation she wanted to have anywhere. Ever.

"I think I'm going to see if I can find the artist somewhere," Rita said politely. Lizzie couldn't think of anything to say to her. Sighing, she saw Darcy watching them out of the corner of her eye and flushed. Great. He was witness to her embarrassing mother.

"Please drop this, Mother. Is there any other way for me to ask?"

"Oh, Elizabeth. You know I only want to see you happy. Like Jane."

"I _am_ happy," she groaned.

"You don't look it. I worry that your odd habits will put men off."

"Please stop talking."

"You know," her mother said, stepping closer, "you could tell me if you were a lesbian."

"Mom!"

"I wouldn't mind, really! In fact, it would answer a lot of questions."

Lizzie stared at her mother, aghast.

"I'll just let you think about it, honey. I'm always here for you, you know. Now, I'm going to see if I can't find Lydia. I'll catch up with you later."

Her mother waddled away in the direction of Lydia's hulking date Tom.

She turned slowly and got another drink from the bar, passing Darcy who was frowning.

"What?" Lizzie snapped.

"I'm just standing here," Darcy said, frown dissipating.

"And listening to absolutely everything."

Darcy was stared at her for a moment. Any longer and he would have made Lizzie uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he said, "So what do you think of the exhibit?"

"Trying to make conversation now? You shouldn't have started there. I'm sure we don't see Pedro Siestra's work in the same way."

"Then you can be sure of there being plenty to say. We can compare opinions."

The last thing Lizzie wanted to do was get into an art debate with Darcy. "Maybe later. I can't think about that right now."

"You can't think about art at an art exhibit?"

"Not at this one, apparently," Lizzie mumbled. "I'd get too into it. And I have to remain…alert." Her eyes swept the room for signs of Benjamin.

"You still avoiding someone?" Darcy smiled at her.

"I'm not very good at it."

"Maybe you should try making sure people you don't like leave you alone."

"Has that ever worked for you?"

"No, I suppose not."

Lizzie laughed, the absurdity of this whole night finally overcoming her. "Apparently, when I live my life I piss people off." She smiled. "You've just got to laugh."

"Does that make it better?"

"Yes, when there's nothing else to be done. I'd much rather laugh at this evening than think it's for real."

Darcy nodded.

"I suppose," Lizzie went on, suddenly verbose, "that it's a problem. My not wanting to take this whole situation seriously."

"And what situation is that?"

Lizzie froze, then waved her hand. "Never mind. What's yours?

"My what?" Darcy asked, looking puzzled.

"Your flaw. I told you mine, now you tell me yours."

"I wasn't aware we were sharing."

Lizzie looked sternly at him. "We're not. You just witnessed my mother make a complete fool of herself and me in public. You can't get something for nothing." She took a sip of wine. "Cough it up."

He thought seriously for a moment. 'My temper, I suppose."

"No way," Lizzie laughed. "I can't imagine you in a rage."

"I've never been mad at you," he said gravely. Lizzie stopped smiling. Why did all there conversations end up so serious? Lizzie wasn't in the mood.

Darcy continued. "But I find it hard to forgive people who have done me wrong. My good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"Well, that's much worse than mine," Lizzie said, trying to joke.

"I think everyone has their own fault that is very difficult, if not impossible, to overcome."

Fine, thought Lizzie. I can be serious if you want. "Yours is a tendency to hate everyone."

"And yours is to willfully misunderstand them," Darcy smiled at her.

Wait, she thought. What was going on? Did she miss something? Were they joking around? Unsure of her footing, Lizzie went on the offensive.

"So you hardly ever forgive? I suppose then, that you are very careful not to be offended too easily. You make sure you don't get the wrong first impression?"

His jaw tensed. "I do," he answered firmly.

"Because it's important to make sure you don't judge people too soon if you never change your opinion. Don't you agree?"

He took a cautious step toward her. "Why are you asking me this?"

Lizzie leaned back to look at him. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"And how's it going so far?" he asked frowning.

She shrugged. "Not so well. I hear so many different things about you I don't know what to think."

His expression was completely unreadable. "I can easily believe that you've heard conflicting stories about me, Lizzie. But I hope you won't try to figure me out tonight. It wouldn't reflect well on either of us, I think."

"But if I don't do it now I might never get another chance."

"I would never stand in your way." He straightened himself up before Lizzie realized that they had almost been nose to nose. "Excuse me," he said and walked off toward the exhibit.

* * *

Whew! I'm tired of typing. More gallery opening to come! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

* * *

Darcy tried his best not to storm away from her, but he wasn't sure how well he succeeded. She was absolutely psychotic. Also, rude. How could she not be, with a mother like that? Darcy sighed. Why was she always so determined to make him out to be the bad guy? The more time he spent with her, the worse he felt about himself. How could he be attracted to someone who made him feel this way?

He downed the rest of the wine in his glass and ran an agitated hand through his hair. Well, it was certain now. His infatuation with her was over. What with her friendship (if that's all it was) with Wickham and her tendency to ridicule him, he was officially repulsed by her. In fact, the last time he could remember himself being this angry was when he found out that Wickham had... No. Darcy took a deep breath. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get upset over that again. It was over. What had happened had happened. It was time to move on.

Darcy realized that he'd been gripping his empty wine glass a little too tightly and he set it down on a nearby table. He glanced around the room and saw Lizzie's mother and Jane talking in a corner. He sighed to himself. He really didn't want to see Charlie wrestle through another heartbreak. Caroline could swear up and down that Jane was obsessed with Charlie and she was out to "ensnare" him, just as Charlie's last girlfriend had done, but Darcy couldn't see it. It seemed more like Charlie was overly invested in someone who just didn't share his feelings. Jane was almost like a stone statue. Always poised, always immaculate (so unlike her sister) and always distant. She never showed the slightest interest in Charlie. Her face didn't light up when they were together and she didn't show any of the other signs of substantial interest in Charlie that Darcy was able to notice in other women who happened to be in love. For all Darcy could tell, she was just being polite to Charlie and wouldn't care whether he were there at all. And Darcy was paying close attention. His complete and utter failure as Charlie's friend the last time Charlie showed interest in a woman would ensure that Darcy would never make the same mistake twice.

Darcy cringed a bit as he remembered how he had encouraged Charlie to propose to Cecelia. Darcy hardly knew her! And he had seen her and Charlie together for a total of three days. She certainly had seemed eager. Unfortunately, she wasn't as eager to tell Charlie of her two children. That was something he had to find out after he'd discovered she'd disappeared with the 4-karat engagement ring Charlie had given her. And Darcy had encouraged him. Darcy never wanted to see his closest friend go through something like that again. And Jane seemed nice enough. Darcy didn't think she would be the kind of person to lie and steal. But she also didn't seem to feel anything like love for Charlie. Other than her lack of interest, Darcy couldn't really come up with any reason why she and Charlie wouldn't be perfect for one another. Well, other than her family. No father to speak of and a mother to be thoroughly ashamed of.

As if on cue, Darcy heard Caroline's snicker behind him. "God, can you believe Jane's mother? And I thought Lizzie was badly behaved. Well, now we know where she got it. I don't think any amount of charm on Jane's part can make up for this evening. How can she stand being related to those people?"

Darcy gave a perfunctory laugh. He could not remember the last time his and Caroline's thoughts were so in sync. "I heard her mother saying how excited she was to come and see the 'penthouse.' I suppose Jane thinks she's going to be a major part of Charlie's life or something. She's already inviting her mother over to our apartment?"

Darcy thought it much more likely that Mrs. Bennett was going to invite herself over, but said nothing.

Caroline continued in her haughty tone. "Anyway, Jane seems to be taking this all in stride. Look at her. She's completely expressionless. Like a porcelain doll."

"I thought you liked her," Darcy observed.

Caroline shrugged. "Dolls get boring after a while. Come to speak of it, so do art shows. I don't suppose you're ready to go home? I certainly have had my fill."

"You're probably right." Darcy said slowly, an idea coming to him. If he and Caroline were having such a terrible time in the city and if Charlie was in such danger, why didn't they just leave? He had no real reason to stay. And Charlie's break was coming up soon.

"Why don't you see if you can't get Charlie to come?"

"Ugh!" Caroline exclaimed. "He never listens to me. You're much better at persuading him."

"I have to make a phone call," Darcy walked away from her as he said it so she couldn't argue. He was making his way to the office he and Lizzie had met in earlier that evening. Before he got to the door, a short hairy man stepped in front of him and stuck out his hand.

"Hi there. I'm Benjamin Collins."

Darcy stared before quickly shaking the man's hand with a finality that any person in their right mind would have recognized. "William Darcy," he said. "Excuse me, I must--"

"I know," interrupted Benjamin, "that you are the nephew of my boss Catherine Burg. She has mentioned you several times and very fondly." Darcy raised his eyebrow at the strange man as he continued. "Imagine my surprise when I realized you were here. And at such an opportune moment! Your aunt is always telling me how well you advise her and I need a bit of advice myself." Benjamin opened the door to the office and gestured for Darcy to step inside. "Mr Darcy, I promise it won't take you long and I would greatly appreciate it."

For no other reason than that he needed the privacy of the office anyway, Darcy went in. "I hope this will be quick," he warned. "I don't like giving advice to people I know so little."

"I understand and I wouldn't ask except for that I know you could never give poor advice--and I desperately need to know what to do." Darcy waved for him to continue. "I believe you know Elizabeth Bennett."

Darcy glared at the man. "Yes," was his short and curt answer.

"Well, you have noticed, I'm certain, how beautiful she is and how...well, she is very beautiful...' Benjamin seemed to have run out of adjectives to describe her. Darcy felt sick to his stomach as he watched Benjamin picturing Lizzie.

"I have happened to fall in love with her. In fact," he pulled a small box out of his coat pocket, "I plan on proposing to her and I was wondering if you could help me decide how to do it. I am certain that I want to do it tonight at the gallery. What do you think? I know she loves this place and with all her friends and family around I thought it would make for a memorable occasion."

Darcy's whole body was rigid by the end of Benjamin's speech. He grasped the edge of the desk and tried to organize his thoughts. This man--this ridiculous man--was going to propose--propose marriage--to Lizzie Bennett? As if he had the first clue about how to take care of someone like her, should he even come close to deserving her, which he most certainly didn't. At once Darcy was one hundred percent certain that she would never accept him and was sick with worry that maybe he could be wrong. That there could be a part of her that he didn't know yet which would lead her to say yes to this hobbit-like creature. Unbidden, wave after wave of jealousy washed over him. He had never considered himself the jealous type, but he had been experiencing the feeling often enough in the past weeks to know the cause of it. Lizzie. This was her fault. And he knew he had nothing to be jealous of. He and Lizzie had no kind of relationship that would warrant this kind of emotion, he told himself rationally.

Slowly, Darcy exhaled. "Mr Collins, as I said before, I have no wish to advise you on a course of action that is so personal and involving so many people who I know so little. Please," he gestured toward the door.

"But Mr Darcy! I know you'll point me in the right direction! Any advice at all would be appreciated."

Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose as a nasty thought entered his head. Benjamin on one knee, proposing to Lizzie in front of everyone at the gallery. For a fraction of a second, he considered letting Benjamin do it. It would serve her right. He could have the satisfaction of seeing her as uncomfortable as he had been.

But, no. He immediately dismissed the idea. He could never do that to her. As he looked at Benjamin he didn't think he could do something like that even to Caroline. He felt terribly guilty for even thinking it.

"Benjamin," Darcy said, seriously. "My only advice would be to wait. Do not propose tonight. Not at the gallery. Wait. Wait for a private moment when you can be sure you'll have her full attention," and she won't be too distracted to do the right thing and reject you outright, he added silently as he ushered Benjamin to the door.

"Thank you so much! You are so right, Mr Darcy. I shall tell your aunt of your generousness in this matter. And of course, you'll be invited to the wedding!"

Darcy flinched as he pushed Benjamin out of the room. Finally alone, he forced himself to turn his mind to making the necessary arrangements that would get him and his friend away from all the chaotic and disturbing people they had met the past few weeks.

* * *

AN: I know it's short, but I figured something is better than nothing. It's summer again, and my time is my own once more. Chapters will probably be shorter this time around. Also, I have a new computer and word documents are not really a part of it. I'm working on it, but until then, updates will be difficult. Also, this chap (as you've noticed, I'm sure) contains a very mean Darcy. I'm of the opinion that he's more of a jerk in the beginning than people like to believe. He never does anything terribly bad, but his private thoughts are a little more selfish and less restrained. Sad. But he'll come around, I'm sure. 


	10. Chapter Ten

* * *

Lizzie groaned as she realized she was face down on the couch in her living room. Why hadn't she made it to her bed last night? It's not like it would have been the first time she woke up on a couch instead of in her bed, but usually the couch was in someone else's apartment. If she was in her apartment then why hadn't she made it to her bed? She shifted slightly on the couch so she didn't look like some sort of contortionist. Her whole body was sore and her head was pounding. She knew if she stayed still and quiet for long enough, her mind would stop focusing on the pain and start remembering how she got here and why. She groaned again, but this time she was answered by another muffled groan from the floor next to her. Risking the opening of one eye and therefore a flood of blinding light, she blinked and tried to identify a blanket-covered lump on the floor.

"Carter?" Lizzie grunted.

"Hmm" was his answering reply.

"Ugh."

"Mmhmm."

"It's not coming back to me as quickly as it usually does, Carter."

"That's because you're getting old."

"Shut-up."

Carter flicked the blanket off his face and squinted at Lizzie. "Why are you talking? And why is your apartment so damn bright? Can't you invest on some curtains or something?"

"Something being steel doors that cover the windows?"

"Yes. I hate you for doing this to me, Lizzie."

Lizzie pushed herself up on her elbows indignantly. "What? Why? What did I do?"

"It's your fault I'm hung over and my spine will never be the some from sleeping on your floor. I think the floor boards must have warped from when your apartment was flooded."

"Please, it's not like I forced the alcohol down your throat. You were a willing participant. Also, I'm certain I offered you the couch, and even if I didn't it looks like I took it anyway, so you could have had my bed. Ugh!"

Lizzie flopped back down on the bed. "Looks like I'm going to need the whole weekend to recover from this."

"Funny, I remember you saying that after the gallery opening last week."

Lizzie groaned again, spectacularly.

"Lizzie shut up!" Lydia's voice called from her bedroom. Lydia herself appeared in her pajamas moments later. "I was trying to sleep, you know. You're not the only one who was out last night. And by the way, you should call Uncle Luke. He tried to get a hold of you three times yesterday. I think he wants you to talk to Carly. Apparently she's not  
returning any of his calls."

"And he thinks I'll have better luck? I'm pretty sure Carly won't be talking to me for a while. He should ask Jane."

Lydia raised an eyebrow at her sister. "Liz, Jane left this morning at 6 am, remember? You were the one who told her to go, although I think it was a stupid idea. Charlie ditched her like she was radioactive. I think we have mom to thank, frankly. Jeez, you must have really gone for it last night, guys. You stink."

Lizzie groaned again as she pulled her blanket over her eyes. That's right. She had encouraged Jane to get away for a while. To take a break. Charlie had left only a day after the gallery opening with only a quick phone call to Jane to tell her he was leaving and wouldn't be back until the beginning of the next semester. At first Jane had been sick with worry that Charlie was in trouble or there was a family emergency, but a day after that she had gotten a short and snide email from Caroline telling her how they had all decided to go visit Georgiana, Will Darcy's sister, in Scotland for the winter break and  
that she should email, but they were all going to be so very busy having such a fabulous time that they might not be so good about keeping in touch.

Lizzie had flown off the handle. She raved about how Caroline was the worst of human beings and how she was going to figure out some way to get her back. Lizzie was certain that Charlie's leaving had to do with Caroline and Darcy convincing him that Jane was no good. She could still see Darcy's face when she had caught him listening to her mother and her at the gallery. Disdain was written all over him. After a while Lizzie realized that her yelling was doing nothing to help Jane, so she stopped and put her mind to figuring out how to make Jane feel better instead of how to make Caroline and Darcy feel worse.

Jane was distraught. Lizzie hated seeing her beautiful, happy sister feeling so terrible. Eventually, she convinced Jane that maybe a change of scenery would make her feel better. A group of Jane's professors were going to a ten day long convention in Virginia and when Jane expressed an interest in going, they all jumped at the chance to have her come along. Lizzie thought that Jane could throw herself into her work and be in a place where everything didn't remind her of Charlie. Everything had happened so fast with him that Lizzie wasn't even sure it had really happened. She couldn't help but fume  
every time she thought about how fast Darcy and Caroline had stolen Charlie away after meeting their mother.

And then there had been the other thing...

She was trying her best to forget the whole miserable ordeal.

Carefully, Lizzie sat up. Carter was already in the kitchen and brewing some coffee.

"You're a god, Carter."

"You know I didn't make this coffee for you. It's for me. You just happen to be lucky that I accidentally brewed too much."

"Mmhmm," Lizzie answered as she rubbed her face.

"So," said Carter as he made his way back to the couch with two cups of hot coffee, "are you going to call Luke?"

"I suppose I have too. Although I really don't think it'll do too much good. Why does he think I'm going to be able to make a difference? Carly's made up her mind."

"You should at least call him. Does he even know where they are?"

"I imagine he can guess. Where else would they go? I can't believe she did it. I mean, I knew she wanted to get married, but...Benjamin? She can't know he asked me."

Carter smirked at her. "Do you think it would have made a difference if she had?"

Lizzie stared at nothing in front of her. "I can't believe anything that happened this week actually happened."

"Lizzie, come on. It's time to face reality. Everything that happened this week did actually happen. Charlie left, Jane left. Benjamin proposed to you. Benjamin and Carly left. Now you have only one roommate instead of three and it's time to call your uncle before he releases the hounds to go after his daughter."

Lizzie glared at Carter. "Thanks for that, sunshine."

"Anytime," he patted her knee. "I have to head back out. Call me later ok?"

Lizzie nodded and made her way to her room to get ready for the ugly reality that was now her life.

* * *

Once at the gallery, Lizzie found Luke in his office on the phone, his elbows on the desk. From the sounds of it he had finally gotten though to Carly.

"Honey, I just don't understand. You had us so worried... I know, but a note doesn't explain... Carly, I have met this man only once... But where... Ok. Ok, when?"

Luke looked up at Lizzie helplessly. She had never seen him look so worn. She didn't realize until now that what Carly had done was not only supremely stupid, but also cruel. Luke had probably been up for three days, worried sick about her. Lizzie had been too busy being furious with her that she forgot that she was furious with her for an entirely different and much more justifiable reason.

Carly had hurt all her friends and family by running off with Benjamin on a whim.

"Carly, Carly, just forget about that for a minute. I'm trying to tell you that for now, I just want you to come home. I am worried about you--" Luke stood up and slammed his fist on the desk. "Goddamn, it Carly! I don't care about that right now! You've been missing for three days and I want to see my daughter, safe in front of me! Finish up whatever it is you want to finish up in Niagara. Do it fast and get down here with whomever you've legally bound yourself to, do you understand? We'll talk about the rest later."

Lizzie had never heard Luke raise his voice. Ever. She was looking at him with wide eyes as he listened to Carly. "Yes, honey. Yes... ok. Ok, I love you too. See you tomorrow."

He slowly hung up the phone and rubbed his face as he looked at Lizzie. "That was her," he said. "She'll be here tomorrow. With Benjamin. They married, you know."

Lizzie nodded. "I thought that might have been what they were going to do."

"Well, I didn't think they would. I don't even know this guy Lizzie. You met him, right? He stayed with you? What's he like?"

Lizzie sat down across from her uncle. "He's the son of one of my father's friends." She was determined to try to put Luke's mind at ease about Benjamin, as best she could. "I know he works for Catherine Burg, a very successful business woman, so he has a stable job and what appears to be a career with room for advancement. He is... a bit peculiar, but he has ambition and... a desire to have the best and be the best, especially for those he cares about." Lizzie realized as she spoke, that she hadn't lied. He was all of these things, and she was certainly in a position to list his qualities since he had listed them all to her only a few days ago.

Luke gave her a half-smile. "Really? Well, since I suppose there isn't anything I can do about it now, I my as well dwell only on his good traits." his smile faltered. "He'll be good to Carly?"

Lizzie's heart reached out to her uncle. It certainly wasn't the best that Carly could have done, but it certainly wasn't the worst either. "He will. He won't hurt her. I think they will be good for each other. I do. I think they'll be able to grow together." She reached for her uncle's hand. "And don't forget. Carly has a lot of family who will continue to look out for her. She's not alone. She'll be here tomorrow with Benjamin and you'll be able to see for yourself."

"Yes, you're right," Luke sighed. "It has to be alright. Carly is certainly old enough to make these decisions for herself. It's just...I've felt that she hasn't been making the best decisions since she broke up with her ex-fiance...not that he was right for her either. I hope I'm wrong. I hope she found a good man."

Lizzie smiled at him. "I'm sure she has," she lied.

"Thanks for coming in, Liz. I actually think I'm gonna take off. I thought working today would help take my mind off this whole situation, but I think I'd feel better if I just went home and mulled over it for while. Make sure it sinks in that my daughter is married and I have a son-in-law, otherwise, I might never accept it."

"I know, it is rather unbelievable. I think I'll head out too, then."

"Oh, uh, did Jane get out ok? I know she was reluctant to leave when we hadn't heard from Carly. She's such a great kid."

Lizzie again felt the absence of her sister. If only Jane had stayed! Lizzie missed her already, missed knowing that she'd say something to make Luke and herself feel better, knowing that she'd give them some insight into Carly's decision that would make it seem more comprehensible. But Jane needed to get out of the city. "Jane arrived in Virginia this morning. She'll be glad to know that Carly is on her way home."

* * *

Lizzie was walking home from the gallery when she saw Greg coming out of the Park. She didn't call out his name. Not only was she not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, but he hadn't spoken a word to her since before the gallery opening and she couldn't help but feel a little neglected. Unfortunately, he had seen her and came running over, a big grin on his face.

"Lizzie!" He kissed her cheek. "I've wanted to call you for ages."

"Then why didn't you?" Lizzie snapped.

Greg's smile faded. "What?"

"If you wanted to call me for so long, then why didn't you? I haven't heard from you in over a week." Lizzie continued walking at a brisk pace.

His smile returned once more as he sped up to her. "Well, first, I wanted to make sure our friend got the space he needed to pop the question, and another thing came up that I had to take care of--"

Lizzie stopped so fast that Greg bumped into her. "Wait, what? Who needed space? What are you talking about?"

"What, you don't know? He didn't get up the nerve to ask you? Aw, man!" Greg whined. "I thought for sure he would if I stayed away!"

Lizzie was looking at him furiously as he explained himself.

"See, Benjamin had been dropping all these hints about how he liked you and wanted to know if we had a thing going on. I wouldn't say a word, you know." He looked smug. "That's a private thing. Also, I wasn't quite sure what we had anyway. But then he just came out and said he was in love and he wanted to propose! Ha! Propose to you! I just couldn't resist, so I told him there was nothing between us and I may have mentioned that you had told me that you were a little enamored of a man that had just come into your life." Greg smirked again.

Lizzie's jaw dropped. "You said what?"

"Wait! It gets better!" Greg laughed. "I told him that the gallery opening would be a great place to do it, since you would be surrounded by the friends and family you loved! I really thought he had worked up the nerve. Shame he couldn't come to the point. That would have been hilarious!"

Lizzie took a deep breath. "So let me get this straight. You told a man you knew I couldn't stand that he had a serious chance at getting engaged to me. Then you told him the best place to propose would be a place that was not only inappropriate but full of people that would witness his humiliation and mine when I refused him, which you knew I would."

Greg's smile fell. "Well, when you put it that way."

Lizzie waved a hand furiously at him. "What was the other thing?"

"What?"

"The other thing that kept you from calling me this week, please try to keep up."

Greg seemed to take offense to her tone. "Well, not that it's any of your business, but this lacrosse thing really isn't working for me and I'm going to be leaving town."

"Well good riddance!" Lizzie yelled, and she started walking again. Great. One more person in her life was leaving. Not that Greg was really someone who she wanted around, but still... "And for future record, you're in no position to tell me what is and isn't my business since you can't seem to remember what your own is."

"Hey, what is your problem? I was only playing a little joke."

"Playing jokes like that with someone's feelings is cruel. How dare you?"

"You know what, Lizzie," Greg grabbed her arm and stopped her. "I was only playing a joke. Sorry if your feelings got hurt. Yes, your feelings, because I know that you don't care about Benjamin's. You probably would have joined in the fun if it had only been Benjamin I was playing with. So your anger is hardly worth noting. You've become some crazy psycho in the one week I let you out of my sight and I'm glad I have the opportunity to get away from you."

Greg was still gripping her arm and Lizzie was surprised to see him so angry at her. But not surprised enough to stay quiet.

"Just because you don't think I have a right to be angry, doesn't mean I'm going to stop being angry at you. What you did was shitty and even if you weren't leaving New York, I'd never want to speak to you again. Now get your goddamn hand off me, you smug prick."

Greg paused for a moment before letting her go. All Lizzie wanted to do was run in the opposite direction, but her pride wouldn't let her and he managed to stay her ground until Greg slowly backed away. After he had turned around, Lizzie, shaking, quickly hailed a cab and made for her apartment.

* * *

AN: Oooh! Wickham shows some of his seedier nature. He's such a snake. And poor Lizzie! All she has now is Lydia! Also, I don't know if you can elope in Niagara Falls, but for the sake of this fic, let's assume you can. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

AN: Ok, things are going to move a bit faster, time-wise, in the story. Lizzie and Darcy have had a little taste of each other and they both have a few more mistakes to make separately before they can start making them together. Also, I still don't have Word, but it's finally on its way so, soon, it won't take me as long to get the format right on these chapters. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

Lizzie had just finished unpacking her bag which had been sitting on the foot of her bed since she got back to her apartment three days ago, after being at home for the holidays. Lizzie was happy to be back in the city, but it felt like most of the problems she'd been facing at home had followed her here. Lizzie grabbed an art supplies catalog and made for the couch in the living room. She thumbed through it, not really paying attention, her mind elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about the one thing that had been bugging her most. 

Jane was depressed. It was a subtle but definite change that Lizzie noticed as soon as Jane got back from her trip to Virginia. The holidays had been fairly unremarkable. Lizzie, Jane and Lydia spent Christmas Eve with their father and Christmas Day with their mother, just as they always had. Lizzie couldn't remember a time when her parents were together, so Christmases had always been spent this way.

There was something different about this holiday though. It was only now, when Jane and Lydia were getting ready to start the new semester, that Lizzie had actually had some time alone to think about it. For the past week she had been trying to dodge her mother's thinly veiled condemnations for not agreeing to marry Benjamin and her father's constant jokes about his proposal. Lizzie thought it was a little too soon to find Benjamin's proposal funny. But she was amused to think that her mother took this way too seriously, while her father didn't take it seriously enough. She shook her head as, for the millionth time in her life, she wondered how in the world her parents were together long enough to have three daughters.

Lizzie heard the key turn in the door and raised her head to see Carter. She smiled as he shut the door behind him.

"Are Jane and Lydia here?" he asked.

"No, they're taking care of things on campus. It's just me."

Carter plopped down on the couch next to Lizzie and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. He looked about as worn as she probably did. Lizzie was glad to see him. He had spent the holidays with his own family who had moved to Rochester after he and Lizzie graduated from college. Lizzie hadn't seen any of his family since then, except when Carter's little sister, Evie, came to visit once last year.

"How's the fam?" Lizzie asked.

"They're good. Evie's doing well. She's planning out where she's going on her spring break. She's looking at colleges now. Can you believe it?"

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. "No, I can't. Wow."

She went back to flipping through her catalog.

Carter glanced at it. "Time to restock?"

"I got some cash for Christmas. It's going to some new supplies. And some of it is going to be saved for a vacation so next year I can spend the holidays in a far off country."

Carter winced. "So I'm guessing you had a less than stellar time?"

Lizzie put down the magazine. "You know, it really wasn't that bad. Well, I mean, Mom was crazy and Jane was just...so..." Lizzie trailed off. "It's not like I blame Jane for..."

Carter stared at Lizzie. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. It was just different this time. Coming home, I mean. I haven't lived at home for three years, but my parents' apartments still felt like home. But not this time. Something was different. I thought it was Jane's fault at first."

"Oh come on, Lizzie," Carter argued. "Jane didn't do anything wrong."

She frowned at him. "I know that, don't you think I know that? She's hurting, of course this isn't her fault. But I don't know what else could be different! It's not just the holidays either, you know. This whole feeling has carried over to here. To my apartment. It doesn't feel like home anymore. And I can't help but think that..." Lizzie trailed of again. She wasn't sure how Carter would react to what she thought.

Carter smiled at her. "You think it's because of Charlie?"

"Well," Lizzie hesitated. "Yes. Everything was fine before he got here and now," Lizzie started to shout, "now Jane is heartbroken! She's hurting like I've never seen her hurt and it's killing me, ok? And there's not a damn thing I can do about it! She walks about with something missing and I can see it and it's killing me. And nothing I do cheers her up!"

Carter looked thoughtful. "Well, I imagine the old stand-bys - making her popcorn or painting her toenails--aren't doing it?"

"Don't laugh," Lizzie grumbled. "They always used to work before."

Carter looked seriously at her. "I'm sorry I can't help you. I mean, you know Jane better than anyone and if you can't cheer her up than I don't know who could."

"That's the thing." Lizzie said sadly. "I don't think I know her best anymore. And there is someone who could cheer her up. He's just on the other side of the world, is all." Her hands curled into fists in her lap at the thought of Charlie and his sister and friend. "It was probably those idiots Darcy and Caroline who convinced Charlie to study abroad. Assholes. You should have seen Jane's face when she found out. Well, you might anyway. Her expression hasn't really changed."

Carter looked worried. "Is she really doing that badly? She doesn't need help does she?"

Lizzie bit her lip. "No, I don't think so. She still talks and laughs and does all the things she used to. But there's something...sad about her now. I know this sounds stupid, but there was a bounce before that's gone now." She sighed. "I can't tell you how frustrating it is for me to see her this way and not be able to do anything about it. Not a thing."

Carter pulled Lizzie into a hug. "Jane'll pull through. And who knows, maybe she and Charlie will meet again. Do you think she really loved him?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I think she was beginning to. I think she began to see something of her future with him and now he's gone and all of Jane's hopes with him. You know Jane, she's very self-sufficient and ambitious, but she would love to get a small practice and start a family. She'd be good at it too."

Lizzie sighed again and pushed off of Carter. "Anyway, enough. You haven't even asked me what my cousin and her new husband got me for Christmas."

"You're right it should have been the first thing out of my mouth the moment I saw you. What did Carly and Benjamin get you for Christmas? It wasn't another ring was it? Benjamin isn't polygamous, is he?"

"And if my father hadn't already made that joke it might have been funny," Lizzie scolded.

"Damn," Carter feigned anger. "He's always beating me to the punch line." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Shut up, please." Lizzie said as she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope.

"They got you money?" Carter ogled the envelope.

"Yes, to give me a taste of what I was missing out on. No, you idiot, they gave me a plane ticket. Apparently, Carly is determined to be my best friend again. And I don't really blame her for wanting to try and salvage the few friendships she still has. Anyway, I'm to London. She and Benjamin are moving there in a month because Catherine Burg has some new business thing going on. Anyway, I'm supposed to go visit them there In March." Lizzie traced the edge of the envelope.

Carter gave her a crooked smile. "Not rethinking your answer are you? You could have been getting ready to move to London."

Lizzie's eyes flew up to his. "Of course not! I would never--"

"Oh come on, now," Carter rolled his eyes. "I know you, Lizzie. You can't tell me that you didn't think for a minute about how it would be if you'd said yes to him. That you didn't consider everything that Benjamin's offer entailed."

Lizzie gaped at him, but didn't say anything. Carter had managed to hit on the very thing she had been trying to suppress since the day after the gallery opening. She had been so ashamed of those thirty seconds when she had actually considered accepting Benjamin. Because, yes, he was successful and he was going places. She knew that his ridiculous manner would please some people and those people would be willing to promote him. Lizzie was an artist, sure, but she was also very sensitive to how the real world worked. Sometimes people sold out. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She hadn't done it yet, but she had come close so often. And she was only 22. There were going to be plenty more opportunities for her to sell out.

There was nothing she loved more than painting. If there was an opportunity for her to paint without having to worry about money, to be able to travel to inspiring locations, why shouldn't she consider it? But if painting was the thing she loved best, it wasn't the _only_ thing she loved. On those rare occasions when she imagined her future in any kind of detail, it never consisted of only painting. There was always a family element. Not definitely a husband-and-kids kind of picture, but someone important was there and friends she loved and her sisters. So, yes, she had briefly considered Benjamin, because she could imagine having most of those things with him. Most of them. But not all of them.

And the fact that Carter would bring this up, would try to make her feel guilty for wanting those things...

Lizzie stood up quickly. "You know what Carter? Yes. Ok? Yes, I did consider Benjamin's offer. You want to know why? Because when someone asks you to marry them, you think about what it would be like. Ok? It's what you do when someone asks you that question. I thought about what it would be like. And yes, Benjamin has money, more money than I do and he has a steady job. But we both know that. I thought about what it would be like to be married to someone with money, I thought about what it would be like to be married to someone who was going to travel. But then I remembered that that someone was Benjamin. I remembered that it wasn't 'someone' I was going to marry if I said yes. It would be Benjamin. So I said no. I said _no_. I said _hell_ no! Which is more than I can say for Carly. So if you're going to sit there and judge me for thinking for thirty seconds about saying yes then screw you. I can't help it, ok? I'm not like Jane. I don't think that way. Don't you think I don't wish every day that I wasn't attracted to money the way I am? Don't you think it's hard for me to know that I come so close all the time to selling out? I struggle all the time with just dropping painting and getting a decent job as someone's assistant. I'm good at it and it doesn't make me unhappy and it pays. I come _so close_. But I didn't come close to marrying Benjamin. Oh, I considered everything his offer entailed, all right? And it entailed being married to a skeezy, sycophant whom I didn't love and who didn't love me." Lizzie was almost in tears.

Carter had already gotten to his feet and was trying to calm Lizzie down. "Hey, Liz, I'm sorry. I never meant--"

"What the hell, Carter?" Lizzie cried, which was when the tears finally fell down her cheeks. She hurriedly grabbed her coat which had been lying on the arm of the couch and sprinted for the door. "Don't follow me, ok?" she yelled as she slammed it behind her.

She ran out of her apartment and onto the freezing cold street. She wasn't sure where she was going, but at this point she didn't really care. She had lost it up there. She had yelled at Carter. Carter who was her best friend besides Jane! Lizzie knew he wasn't accusing her of being shallow. Carter didn't think that about her.

Lizzie shuddered against the cold. Of course Carter didn't think she was shallow. Lizzie thought that about herself. Lizzie thought she was shallow. The tears came a little bit harder now and Lizzie's blurred vision reminded her how silly she must look. A crazy girl crying and storming through the streets of Manhattan. Well, chances were she probably wasn't the craziest person out here. She had just passed a hole-in-the-wall cafe when she heard her name called. Quickly wiping her eyes dry, she turned in the direction of the voice.

To her surprise and chagrin, Greg was standing right before her. "Hey," he said gently, recognizing the redness around her eyes. "Are you ok?"

Lizzie tried to gain some composure. "I thought you were leaving New York," she accused.

"I am," he said, still kindly. "This week. Hey, why don't you come inside?"

Lizzie allowed him to lead her inside and they sat down at the table by the window through which he must have seen her.

"Are you sure you're ok? You look really upset" he noticed as he hung her coat on her chair. Lizzie was trying desperately to remember the fact that she was still angry with him for how he had acted the last time they'd met. But she found as he smiled kindly at her, that she just couldn't. She tried to smile back at him, as a thank you and to show him that she was ok, but she couldn't seem to do that either and quickly lowered her head in an attempt to hide the tears that were welling up again.

Greg pulled his chair closer to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders which Lizzie decided was ok. She didn't have Jane or Carter right now, so who else ...

And suddenly Lizzie realized that there was another option. She could leave Greg and this warm cafe. She could go back to her apartment and apologize to Carter. But she didn't. She stayed with Greg for the rest of the afternoon. And it was only when she quietly let herself into the apartment late that night and saw Carter asleep on the couch that she realized that she had sold out that afternoon.

* * *

AN1: Just a quick update after getting a angry (and rightly so) review: Lizzie did NOT sleep with Greg. Ugh. No way. I never said she did, but maybe I didn't make it clear enough. "She stayed with Greg for the rest of the afternoon." She didn't sleep with him. She's not that effed up. Ok. Hope that clears things up.

AN: And, please review!! I can't tell you how much your reviews inspire me to write. Even if you don't like it! Please let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter Twelve

Darcy looked up from his work when he heard the knock on his door. He was going to consider whether or not he should let whoever was on the other side interrupt his work, but the door immediately opened and the matter was out of his hands.

"You will never believe what came in the mail today," snarled Aidan as he stormed into Darcy's office.

Darcy raised an eyebrow at his cousin's overly dramatic entrance. "I was trying to work, you know." He turned back to the papers covering his desk.

"Well work on this, why don't you?" Aidan said as he planted the letter he was holding in his hand on the top of Darcy's pile and huffed over to the wingback chair in front of Darcy's desk.

Darcy attempted to ignore the letter, but Aidan had fixed him with what would have been a terrifying stare had Darcy not known him all their lives.

"Fine!" he conceded, and picked up the letter. "What the hell are you so upset about?"

Aidan was silent as Darcy perused the letter. Darcy was trying to keep himself from laughing. He had known what the letter would say as soon as he saw Aidan in the doorway. He was, after all, supposed to know these things before anyone else and he knew that the minute Aidan and Georgiana's plans to visit Italy were finalized, Aunt Cat would have something to say about it. He knew Aidan would know this too, but Aidan had an unfortunate habit of tempting fate that he hadn't quite learned how to curb.

"Aidan, this letter says that Aunt Cat needs you to come to London in March."

"Exactly!" Yelled Aidan as he stood and paced around the room. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking forward to this?"

"About as long as Georgie has been?"

"And Georgie! What about her? She'll be so disappointed. It was going to be her first Spring Break holiday."

Darcy was annoyed at Aunt Cat for ruining Georgie's holiday, but not for ruining Aidan's. Every season could have been spring considering how many times Aidan went on "Spring Break."

"Well, I can't say I'm too upset about it," Darcy admitted. "At least now I don't have to go alone."

Aidan looked abashed. "That's probably the most selfish thing I've ever heard you say."  
Darcy rolled his eyes. "Right, Aidan. I am a selfish monster because I would rather not face Aunt Cat alone than send you and Georgie off to Italy for a week of fun by yourselves."

"I was only kidding you know. But honestly, why does Aunt Cat need me to be there? Why that week in particular?"

"You know why. She wants you to take a more active role in the family business. Especially since your parents don't want to. And she doesn't want you to be going on vacations when you could be doing work."

Aidan frowned. "I already take an active role in the business. I have spent more time working for Aunt Cat in the past five years than both my parents have in the last twenty. What more does she want from me?" Aidan growled again in frustration.

Darcy almost answered "your soul." Aidan's melodrama appeared to be catching. Instead, Darcy shrugged. "Who knows what that woman wants? All I know is, you showed an interest in the business and you're good at what you do, so she'll use you until you drop."

"Like you?" Aidan questioned.

Darcy grimaced at his cousin. "Of course not. I choose to work this way."

"Maybe," Aidan said as he got up and made his way to the door, "but only because you've got nothing better to do."

"What? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means go get laid, Darce." Aidan grinned at him.

"Perhaps you should follow your own advice, especially seeing as how you'll be spending your holiday in London with me and Aunt Cat and not on the beaches of the Mediterranean."

Aidan shot Darcy a scathing look as he left the study.

Darcy was actually very relieved that Aidan was coming to London with him. Now he might actually be able to get some work done. Usually when he visited his Aunt Cat for "work" he was paraded around a series of ridiculous parties and being presented to so many of Aunt Cat's colleagues and clients that his head would spin. His aunt was always showing him off and trying to get him paired off with one young lady or another. This happened so often that eventually he found himself thinking that maybe he was wrong about these women. Maybe Aunt Cat's choices shouldn't be so easily dismissed.

But then he brought Georgiana with him on a trip. She had laughed at him about Aunt Cat's matchmaking for almost a month afterwards. Darcy didn't like being teased, even if only by his sister. But in truth, it had been reassuring. Georgie's response had been exactly what his own was (albeit less restrained) and it reminded him that he had been right to refuse them.

It's not that these women were bad or ridiculous (although some of them were). In fact, it made perfect sense that someone like himself would end up with one of them. But no matter how many different ladies he was introduced too, he could never tell them apart. They posed no particular interest for him, and he always found his mind wandering back to his work when he would talk to one.

What was it Aidan had said? Something about how Darcy worked too much? Because he had nothing else to do? Well, maybe Aidan had been right, Darcy conceded. But if the alternative was to be constantly bored out of your skull by businesswomen in their suits, then was it really so bad?

Darcy left his desk and the work papers on it and moved to the window. It was always so relaxing when he was at home, even if it wasn't actually relaxing. Even if he had work to do and his sister was home from school and his cousin was traveling from room to room making a mess and demanding attention from one of them all the time. They were his family and he really wouldn't have it any other way.

He had finally arrived at home after spending the past three weeks with the Bingleys in Glasgow. He cut his trip with them short not only because he didn't think he could stand one more minute of Caroline's prattling but also because he knew that a certain long awaited package had arrived at the house.

Pretending to wait patiently in the library, he literally felt his stomach flip when he heard the doorbell which signaled the delivery man. In an effort to suppress his nervousness (which at this point was beyond ridiculous; he had gone as far as to buy the damn thing and then have it shipped across the Atlantic hadn't he?) he took another swig of the brandy in his hand and slowly rose to his feet. The look of surprise that flitted across his housekeeper's face when he realized his boss had been drinking brandy at noon on a Tuesday was almost imperceptible. Darcy chose to ignore it. He shouldn't have been drinking that early in the day anyway. He strode past the housekeeper and towards the men bringing in the tall thin package.

"Where ya want this, sir?" said the one holding a clipboard.

Darcy hesitated. He had certainly thought about where to put it, but now that it was actually here, he wasn't sure if putting it in his room was a good idea. It suddenly struck him as too… well, whimsical. As if it had been this impossible intangible dream. But putting it in his study would make it too real, not to mention it would constantly distract him from the work he had to do.

"Just leave it in the hall please."

"Ya sure, sir? It's quite heavy."

Darcy raised an eyebrow at him.

The delivery man sighed and handed Darcy the clipboard. "Very well, sir. Sign here."

So it sat in the hallway and it was still sitting there when Aidan brought Georgiana home. And it was still sitting there when Aidan found out his Spring Break was cancelled. As eager as Darcy had been to receive it, he was remarkably uneasy about actually opening it.

Darcy couldn't quite bring himself to call it cowardice. That wasn't it, he assured himself. It's just that every time he passed it in the hallway it began to look more and more like Pandora's Box. If he opened it who knew what kinds of horrors he would suffer? It's not like it wasn't already more difficult than he ever imagined it would be. He was certain that the out-of-sight-out-of mind policy would apply to Elizabeth Bennet, but, as always, his expectations were blown out of the water when it came to her. It felt like he was more in love with her way over here across the ocean than he had been when they had shared an apartment. No, not in love. Even in his overly dramatic mood he couldn't admit to being in love. And it wasn't obsession, he assured himself. He wasn't a freak. It was just that she had been _troubling_ him more now that he was home. Yes, _troubling_ was the perfect word for it. Worrisome and annoying, that's what she was, although why worrisome he couldn't for the life of him explain. Nor did he want to.

Yes, it was definitely good that Aidan was coming with him to visit Aunt Cat. If this kept up he wouldn't be able to handle her on his own.

Finally moving away from the window, Darcy decided he'd had enough self-reflection (God knows he'd had enough), and he decided to go bother his sister about something other. But as he opened the door, he ran right into her.

"Ouch, Wills!" Georgiana rubbed her head. "You got me right in the temple."

"My chin's not feeling so great either, Georgie." He said steadying her. "You shouldn't run."

She rolled her eyes. "You should remember to shave. Ouch. Listen I was gonna ask if you don't want that painting in the hallway, can I have it?"

Darcy looked at her sharply. "What?"

Georgie pointed towards the hall. "That painting that's all wrapped up and lying pathetically against the wall in the hallway. If you don't want it can I have it?"

Darcy sucked in the air he had forgotten to breathe and attempted to look somewhat natural. "You mean the painting that's all wrapped up and therefore you should not have seen because the only way for you to have seen it would be if you had opened it?"

Georgiana smiled at him. "Right, that one."

Darcy frowned severely at her, but before he could begin to lecture her on respecting other peoples' privacy (merely as a way to divert her attention from the fact that he didn't want to answer her question), he heard Aidan yelling from the hallway.

"Hey, Darce, this is great. Where did you get this?"

Quickly following Georgiana into the hallway to where Aidan stood in front of the opened painting, Darcy tried to prepare himself for the sight of it. Georgie must not have opened the whole thing because he watched as Aidan tore the rest of the paper away.

"Wow." Aidan stepped back to get a better look.

"It looks even better now," exclaimed Georgie.

"You mean now that it's not half covered by brown wrapping paper?" Aidan asked sarcastically. Georgie elbowed him.

"So, Wills, can I have it? You don't want it right? I mean, it's just been sitting here ever since I got home. You weren't going to return it were you? Because I want it, if you don't."

Darcy stared at the painting. He had overheard Lizzie's father bragging about her art being sold in galleries in the City and the next day, before he and the Bingley's left the States, he had tracked one down. It was very different than the one he had seen her working on in Charlie's flat. He bought it immediately and arranged to have it shipped to his home. As he took a cab back from the gallery he tried to convince himself that he bought it because he respected her as an artist and wanted to support her work. While these feelings were true, he couldn't help but notice how completely they were dwarfed by the overwhelming need to just have something of hers and the irrational fear that if he didn't then he would forget her as soon as the plane left the ground.

Georgie was waving a hand in front of his face. "Wills? I mean, I know it's beautiful, but come on. Do you want it or not?"

Darcy suddenly felt stupid. The painting was beautiful, but it didn't even come close to making him feel like Lizzie was there with him. In fact, the painting meant almost nothing to him. She had painted it before they had met and she had no idea that Darcy even had it. Not opening it had made him obsess (yes, obsess was the right word) about her way beyond the point his feelings could support. Yes, he admitted readily to himself. He liked her. Very much. But they were not even on the same continent anymore, not to mention the fact that they were completely incompatible. Now Darcy could see clearly. The painting would simply remind of the time when he had a little infatuation with a crazy American painter. He was practically laughing about it now.

"Wills!"

Darcy shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Georgie," he said. "It's just that I'm not sure I want it anymore, seeing it here in the house. Too bad. You know anyone you think might want it?"

Georgie groaned and elbowed her brother as he grinned. "Sure, sure. You can have it if you like. Let me know where you want it and I'll arrange to have someone come put it up for you," he laughed as he made his way back to his study.

Lizzie was rushing to get her things packed. She swore as she tore up her room looking for this shirt and that bra. She had known about this trip for two months and still had left all the packing until the last minute. Sure, she had made a list last night of all the things she needed to bring with her, but she had left all the finding of the things and the packing of the things until now.

"God, you're predictable," laughed Carter as he stuck his head into Lizzie's room.

"No time!" Lizzie shouted at him from under her bed.

"You have to be at the airport in an hour and you're not even packed yet."

"I'm sorry, I have no time for you!" Lizzie grinned and rapidly rolled up the clothes on her bed and stuffed them into an oversized suitcase.

Carter walked over to Lizzie's desk and sat down. "Luke told me to come over here and make sure your ass was ready on time."

"That's the problem with Luke," Lizzie panted. "Unrealistic goals."

"Why are you taking that huge suitcase? You don't even have enough clothes to go in there."

"I need room for my painting stuff. The canvases are too big to fit so I'm going to buy some when I get there. If you think I'm going all the way to London and not painting you're out of your mind."

"Can't you learn to do miniatures?" Carter asked, holding up his thumb and forefinger to indicate how small.

Lizzie threw a pillow at him.

"If you come back with a British accent then I'm going to throw you off a pier."

"Oh, shut up, Carter, I know you think they're sexy."

"I'm gonna miss you, Liz."

Lizzie ran over to hug him. "I'm going to miss you too!"

They were still for a moment. "You know," Lizzie spoke, muffled by Carter's shoulder, "I'll be back in three weeks."

"I know." Carter let her go. "You're going to have a great time. Despite the Hobbit."

Lizzie smiled up at him. "I know. It'll be so great to see Carly again. I do miss her so much, you know?"

Carter shrugged. "'Course you do. She's family."

"The apartment's not the same without her."

Carter's cell phone rang. "It's Luke," he said. "You'd better bring that down."

As he left the room, Jane came in. "Oh, Lizzie, you're going to have the best time! I'm so happy for you! Just think of all the wonderful things you're going to see. I can't wait to see what paintings you'll bring back." Jane enveloped her sister in a hug.

Lizzie hugged her back. "I wish so much that you could come with me."

"I've only got a few weeks of school left. I can't miss anything."

"I know. But it's still a shame."

Jane bit her lip self-consciously. "Lizzie, if for any reason you do end up seeing-"

"No." Lizzie snapped.

Jane grabbed Lizzie's hand. "Please, Lizzie! If by the smallest chance you do see him and you talk to him, please be nice. Don't ignore him or be rude. We have no idea why he decided not to finish his degree at Columbia. It probably had nothing to do with me."

Lizzie seethed. How many more times did they have to go through this? As far as she could tell there could have been a million reasons why Charlie should have gone to London, but none of them should have mattered if he really loved Jane like he'd said. It was very unlikely anyway, that they would see each other. So Lizzie decided to give her sister what she wanted.

"Fine, I'll be nice."

Jane breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I love you. Now go, before Uncle Luke drags you out of here by your hair."

Lizzie zipped up her suitcase and Carter helped her bring it downstairs to the cab. Later, Lizzie smiled as she fell asleep on the plane that was carrying her across the ocean, imagining all the things she was going to paint.


End file.
